For Every Evil
by Eve215
Summary: Sequel to 'Death, Lies, and Videotape'. The team has to deal, each in his/her own way, with the events that happened in that story. If you haven't read that one, things got pretty ugly for them.
1. For Every Evil

_A/N: This story is a sequel to Death, Lies, and Videotape. If you haven't read that one, you might want to. I tried to explain things so it could stand on it's own, but still... you might want to read it anyway. Like the last one, this is not a 'ship' story. It's just a story. Everyone is trying to come to terms with the events in DLV. Everyone deals in his/her own way. I hope you like this story. So far, I do..._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing except the errors. Those are mine. _

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**For Every Evil**

_For every evil under the sun_

_There is a remedy or there is none._

_If there be one, seek till you find it._

_If there be none, never mind it._

_--Mother Goose_

_One Month Later..._

Grace Van Pelt sat at her desk, typing away at her keyboard just as she'd done her entire CBI experience before the horrible events that had happened to her one month ago. It was the same comforting routine she'd picked back up since returning to work a week before. Her physical wounds were healing. The massive black and blue bruise on the side of her face from where Red John, aka Simon James, had slammed it into the banister at her sister's house was fading to nothing more than a distant memory. Not even a sickly yellow mark remained. That's why it made no sense to her that when she touched her left temple, she could still feel pain radiating throughout her head. Her gunshot wound had healed better than even the doctors suspected. They had told her she'd been lucky. And she was, she guessed. The only scars she had on her body were the ugly red marks on her wrists courtesy of Red John's knife and the small pucker of skin on her stomach where his bullet had struck.

Emotionally, however, she was a wreck. She had her good days and her bad days she supposed, although she couldn't for the life of her remember when her last good day was. Probably, the day before she heard of her sister, Faith's, assumed suicide. She had been happy that day, content. If she was truthful with herself, she'd know that she had also been naive. Bad things like the murder of her sister and the torture of Red John didn't happen to _her_. Even that deep dark 'trauma' Jane so correctly identified hadn't been as massive as that. Nothing had prepared her for the total and complete loss of peace. The constant fear. The agonizing panic attacks. And the overwhelming sense that nothing was going to be the same again. She should have died twice in twenty-four hours. No one just bounced back from that one hundred percent.

But she did.

She came to work. She sat at her desk. She performed the mundane tasks that Lisbon gently instructed her to do. Lisbon, who tried to hide it, looked at her like she was a wounded bird every since _it_ happened. It wasn't her fault, Grace decided. Lisbon was her friend and wanted to make things as normal and as easy as possible. The problem? Nothing had ever been normal and easy.

If anyone had noticed her blankness; her frequent use of the backspace; her inability to type two coherent sentences together, they hadn't mentioned it. For the most part, people just let her be. That included Wayne Rigsby who before the incident had been her frequent admirer. The tall, dark, and geekishly handsome man used find excuses to come and talk to her. But now he had his own burdens to bare. Allowing a man to die when you weren't even completely sure of his guilt ate at a person. That along with the fact that District Attorney Frank Copola was trying to build a case against both he and the consultant in the death of his son, Jason, had done it's own damage to the once jovial man. Grace had overheard someone saying that he'd resorted to drinking away his troubles. If that was the case, she'd rather he not come around her anyway. Drinking, drunkenness rather, wasn't something she would stand for. Not even for a man she had once cared about.

Truth be told, it had been Kimball Cho with whom she had spent the most time at work . Cho's greatest asset was his ability to not show his feelings. She knew he cared, they all did. But he hid it better than the rest. He would talk to her about facts from the cases and he didn't coddle her or smother her. She was so glad to have Cho with her at work otherwise she wasn't sure how she would handle it.

And then there was Patrick Jane.

Jane and she hadn't spoken much at the office since Red John had kidnapped and tortured her. At the time, Jane had, by both legal and illegal means, obtained the ability to be her legal guardian. He used his new authority to have her released from the mental ward of the hospital she'd been staying at. It turned out that she hadn't been crazy after all... at least not in the way the doctors thought. The corrupt cop Sam Dixon's wife had been a nurse on Grace's floor. Misty had also been working with Red John. She had drugged Grace into thinking she was losing it. One thing she hadn't been crazy about was the fact that the real Red John, not a hallucination as people were trying to make her believe, had indeed been in her hospital room, trying to strangle her. Red John had turned out to be Simon James. A man not even an inch shorter than Jane with dark black hair and eyes. He had been an actor on Jane's TV shows and had held a grudge over the phony psychic's involvement in the Red John case, _his _case. The serial killer had served his own kind of 'justice' and murdered Jane's family, leaving his wife and daughter brutally mangled for the corrupt man to see.

Red John showed back up to stop another officer Jason Copola, Sam's partner, from slandering his name by staging suicides of women who had been touched at Jane's show. After a bizarre and hard to follow series of events, it turned out that Jane shot Red John who in turn escaped from the hospital with the help of Misty Dixon who had been in on the plot to murder her abusive husband, Sam, from the beginning. It was indeed a tangled web that was hard for Grace to follow. All that mattered to her, and she knew Jane as well, was that Red John was still out there and that he, or rather they, were going to catch him and make him pay.

While in the hospital again for the gunshot wound sustained at the hands of Red John, Grace had been found sane. The doctors thought she was making great progress to recovery. She had to laugh at that upon reflection. She wondered how they could have been so wrong.

So, she had convinced her parents that she was fine and that they should go back to Iowa. She felt so bad for the pain that they were going through. One daughter beaten, the other dead. She knew it was horrible, but looking at the sadness in her mother eyes only made things worse for her. She was glad when they left on the day she'd been released.

"It's Friday. It's 5 o'clock. Go home, Van Pelt." Lisbon ordered, walking by her desk with folder in hand. Even with make-up and concealer, the senior agent could see the dark circles under Grace's eyes. Grace worn conservative black slacks, a gray button-up, and her hair down around her shoulders with just enough natural wave to let Lisbon know that she hadn't put forth much effort into fixing it. Since she'd been back, Lisbon had noticed that her friend hadn't worn one bright color. Not one flourish of jewelry. She could tell that Grace was holding on and holding on tightly, so she never mentioned it. She had been back a week, and in that week, Grace hadn't been asked on any crime scene or information gathering jobs. Lisbon didn't feel comfortable doing that to Grace or any other member of the team. Her team. The team that had been ripped nearly to shreds by Red John and his latest trick, and the team she was desperately trying to hold on to.

Lisbon wanted Grace back to her full potential, but truth be told, no matter what the doctors said, her gut told her to not let the junior agent back out on the field. Not yet. Either she or someone else could get hurt. She couldn't take that chance.

"We'll do, boss." Grace smiled at her as brightly as Jane did. A definite telltale sign that there was much deeper trauma going on behind her pretty greens than she was letting on. Maybe even more than she knew herself.

Grace started packing her things as Lisbon walked away. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that her boss had passed the couch which had been vacant since Jane had left an hour before, and was making her way toward Minelli's office. As she gathered her purse and keys, she idly wondered what she was going in there for.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was dark by the time she made it to the house with black duffel bag in hand, just as she had done every night since from being released from the hospital. It had been that first night, at home, alone, that showed her that she wasn't fine. That she didn't want to be alone. That she couldn't handle the thoughts running rampant in her mind. That she needed someone.

She knew she should feel embarrassed, a grown woman... needing _this_, but she didn't. She couldn't feel anything positive, much less embarrassment. In fact, embarrassment would have been a blessing if it replaced the fear, the anxiety, the uncertainty.... the scariness of her new life.

As she did every night, she knocked twice on the dark wooden door. She didn't know if there was some deeper meaning to the fact that she always knocked twice. She really didn't care. It was just a nervous twitch. Something to let him know that she was here... as if it would be anyone else after all of this time.

The door opened and he stood silently. A hint of a smile ghosted his lips as he wiped his free hand on the apron tied around his waist. He was dressed in the same clothes as he had been at work: white button-up only now with sleeves rolled up the elbows, light blue vest, and gray pants. Without a word, he stepped aside and let her enter. Just as he had done every night.

His house had became her safe haven in the dark. And none of the team was the wiser.


	2. Tables for Two

_Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. If you see any big, huge mistakes, let me know and I'll fix it._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Chapter 2: Tables for Two

"Imagine finding you here." Agent Cho mused sitting down on the bar stool next to his, well friend wasn't really the right word. Not any more. Not since he'd found out what he'd done, or rather had let happen, to Office Jason Copola over a month ago. Friend wasn't the word he'd use for his relationship with the man slumped on the stool next to him. Co-worker? Acquaintance? Who was he kidding? He had no idea what the man was now to him. What he _was_, however, was drunk.

The dark haired man just shooed him away with a flick of his wrist without speaking a word. Instead, he grabbed the small glass in front of him and threw it back. The liquid burned like fire as it descended his throat to his stomach. He couldn't have cared less.

Cho sighed, frustrated by how things had turned out for Rigsby, himself, the team. How could one man destroy so many people? And they had let him. It was stupid. It wasn't fair. It took every ounce of self-control he had to not slam his fist onto the bar top, grab his drunken companion, and shake some sense into him. It was getting old finding him here night after night. He had wondered a long time ago why he came every night to check on him... what stake did he have in this lump of skin who wasn't even his friend any more? "Go home." he said as he did every night.

"Leave me al-one." Rigsby slurred, pouring himself another drink from the bottle the bartender had left for him.

As per their ritual, Cho made sure to take Rigsby's keys from his pocket and pulled out his cell to call him a cab. He had the phone in hand and the first two numbers dialed when an incoming call too precedence. He saw it was Lisbon and quickly pressed send to answer. His voice was calm and collected, but upon hearing her words his body language matched his companions as he slumped himself over the bar and ran his fingers though his dark black hair. Lisbon finished and hung up, leaving Cho to wonder what to do about the drunken mess next to him. It wasn't long before he heard Rigsby's own phone ring. Knowing it was Lisbon, and knowing what she wanted, he grabbed it before Rigsby could answer and shut it off. "Come on. Lets go." he said more forcefully than ever, standing and pushing against Rigsby's shoulders to make the behemoth move.

"Stop it. Just leave like-- like you always-- do." Rigsby protested. When Cho wouldn't give up, Rigsby stood and took at swing at his 'friend'. Luckily, or unluckily, for Cho, Rigsby's drunken aim wasn't the best and he missed by several inches. Instead, he landed against the bar and fell back. Cho caught him before he reach the floor. It was then that he noticed that Rigsby had passed out drunk. Cursing under his breath, Cho commandeered the bartender to help carry him to the car. He would have to find an excuse to tell Lisbon when he arrived to the crime scene with Rigsby unconscious on his front seat, but it didn't matter. He went back in the bar quickly to get ask for some sort of container to put under Rigsby, in case his stomach decided to expel the poison he'd filled it with. Then he left. They had to get to the scene. Lisbon had said it was urgent.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Grace sat back and noticed that her plate of pasta had somehow disappeared. She really hadn't remembered eating it. She hadn't remember a whole lot or cared to pay much attention to things any more. In fact, she couldn't remember the last entire meal she had eaten. Every night that she had came to Jane's house, he had cooked supper for them. Normally, she didn't eat any of it. She would push it around her plate, making it look touched, but knowing he was such a good reader of people, she knew she wasn't fooling him.

Jane had never said a word about her not eating, however. Truth be told, he hadn't had much of an appetite himself since all of this had happened. Cooking was just a way to kill time. Something to keep his hands busy.

"That was really, really good." Grace told him, almost surprised.

Her admission made him laugh. "You seem shocked by that. I cook for you every night."

"Yeah, well. This is the first night I've actually tasted it."

"Maybe that means you're getting better." After he said it, he wished he hadn't. _Getting better?_ How did you _get better_ when a mad man tortures you, drugs you, stalks you, and shoots you? You didn't. He was proof of that. "Sorry." he amended sheepishly, taking a sip of his red wine.

"Don't worry about it. I do feel a little better tonight. I don't know why."

"That's good. One step at a time."

"You sound like a therapist." she laughed barely audible. She did catch the hitch in his breathing after she said it. She wondered what that small twitch meant. She knew that he didn't like doctors, and up until now, hadn't wondered why.

For Jane's part, he hadn't told Grace about his stay in the mental ward after his breakdown when his family had been killed. Some nights, she would talk about her stay, how embarrassed she had been to tell her parents about her snap, but he'd kept silent. He couldn't understand why it was such a big deal to him to keep it from her, but he did none the less. Things were depressing and complicated enough without bringing up that painful memory, even if it would have probably made Grace felt better knowing that she wasn't alone.

He started to say something when Grace's cell rang. She retrieved it from her pocket and saw that it was Lisbon. Jane noticed that something changed in Grace when she spoke to her boss. She sat straighter, spoke more formally, and averted his eyes. She hung up and before she could tell him anything about it, Jane's rang.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Agent Teresa Lisbon paced the scene enough times to know that she'd more than likely worn a path in the grass. The house she stood in front of was a nice, one story, light brick ranch. Very well kept. Even in the dark, Lisbon could see that the shrubs in front of the building were kept to perfection, the grass neatly trimmed. From the outside, it looked perfect. Looks were, in this case, deceiving.

It was Cho who drove up first. Lisbon walked to the car and instantly noticed Rigsby's forehead leaning against his passenger window. "Drunk again?" it was a rhetorical question.

"Yeap. Didn't know what to do with him."

"Lock your doors and hope he doesn't wake up. And call him a cab. We don't need him here drunk if the D.A. decides to show." was the only way she knew how to handle it. Right then, Rigsby was the least of her worries.

It wasn't long after that Grace's SUV pulled up with Jane and his classic car right behind her. Lisbon couldn't help wondering how, since they lived miles apart, they got there at the same time.

When the team had assembled, she gave the speech she'd been practicing since she'd gotten the call from Minelli to get her ass down there. "We have one victim. Mid-30s. She's in the bedroom. Time of death was sometime late yesterday evening. An anonymous 9-1-1 call alerted the authorities to come." That was all she said. She lead them into the house, through the living room, and passed the local P.D. who were searching for clues.

The bedroom door was opened and the body could be seen covered in blood from the living room. It didn't take long for the assembled to realize why it had been such an important case. The body was of a woman with short, dark, black hair. "Misty Dixon." Grace said what the others were all thinking.

Above the body, a face smiled back at them.


	3. The Darkness

_A/N: Um.. yeah, so I finally got back to this story. It's been a while and even I had to go back and remember what happened LOL. Anyway, I 'hope' that you read this story with an open mind and not hurt me LOL. And this is not a 'ship story. Honestly. Trust me. _

_Special thanks to kathiann who watches the Guardian with me every Tuesday morning, Okay via email and in 2 different time zones, but still... it helps to be able to say "Oh My*THUD*!" and have someone who understands LOL._

_Disclaimer: If I owned the Mentalist, I would make them do what I wanted... as it is... I write this stuff. All characters aren't mine.. all mistakes are._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter 3: The Darkness

Teresa Lisbon wasn't sure if the decision to let Grace come on this case was a good one, but Minelli had been adamant about it. When she had gone into his office after ordering the junior agent to leave mere hours before, he'd told her as much. He'd said that she was coddling Grace and maybe she was, but with the state of her current team, she didn't see anything wrong with that. Minelli did, however, and told her that whatever the next case was Van Pelt was to be at the scene. Of course, neither of them knew at the time that the next case would be a Red John one.

Perfect.

Cho was the first to enter the bedroom of the rental house. He slipped his gloves on mechanically and began looking over the body. No doubt it was Red John's work, and no doubt he'd taken great pleasure in killing his one time accomplice.

Lisbon pulled out her cell and called Minelli. "I need another A.P.B out on Red John aka Simon James." she described him, but was cut off by Jane. "It won't do any good." he told her, standing as still as she'd ever saw him, in the door frame next to Grace who looked like she was trying to remain calm.

"We have a name now, Jane. We know who this bastard is." Lisbon argued.

"Yes, we know all of that. Red John finally has a name and a face and a life and a freckle above his lips, all things that would make it easy to catch him." Jane told her, hands safely in his pockets so no one could see how his fists had balled up. "But we won't. Not tonight. He's long gone by now."

"Is that your professional opinion or just wishful thinking?"

He looked at her harder than she thought he'd ever had before. Even when he had blamed her for letting Red John get away from him the first time. "Why in the world would you ever think that I'd wish for Red John to get away?"

She turned and didn't answer, instead walking over to Cho to see if he'd found anything to help with the investigation. Jane started to walk in as well, then noticed the statue that was Grace standing right beside of him. Her face was ghostly pale and her eyes were cold, staring straight ahead at the body on the bed. She had her arms wrapped around herself tightly. Trying to hold herself in. He returned to her and put his hand reassuringly on her shoulder. He didn't say anything to her because, really, what could he say? He understood all too well. She _should_ be petrified that Red John had killed again, and he could tell that she was, but there was something more. He could tell that as much as it sickened her, she was glad that Misty Dixon was dead.

Grace's thoughts mirrored Jane's perfectly, even if she didn't know it. She thought that the nurse had deserved to die for helping Red John, for drugging her, for making her think she was crazy-- and it was that thought that made her sick to her stomach.

So, it wasn't the crime scene, the blood, the Red John smiling face that made her run off and throw up beyond the lights and cop cars. It was the knowledge that she was glad Misty Dixon was dead. The bitch of a nurse deserved it. And that made Grace wonder what she'd become. What she had let Red John turn her in to...

It was 2 am before the crime scene was contained, catalogued, eye witnesses questioned and told that additional information would be needed later. It had been two hours since a drunken Rigsby had been driven home by taxi. The D.A. had arrived thankfully after the agent was taken away. He'd heard he had been there, drunk as a skunk, and thought it was a pity. He really could have used some more ammo on the self-loathing man.

District Attorney Frank Copola had a major stake in the death of Misty Dixon. Misty's husband, Sam, was partners with his son Jason. Now both men laid six feet under, and Misty had played a huge part in both of their deaths. As did the man called Red John, but Frank would get him when his time come. His first priority was Patrick Jane, and to get the conman out of the justice department for good like he'd wanted since taking the D.A. job four months earlier. When he eyed the blond haired man just outside the line of police cars, his hand comforting a stoic looking redhead, he nearly snapped. But Frank, good ole self-controlled Frank, held himself together. He hated Patrick Jane with a fiery passion. The arrogant charlatan had actually told Jason that his sister's drug overdose wasn't his fault. How stupid could one man be? On that revelation, Jason had gone on with his life until he'd found out that Patrick Jane was nothing more than a faker. The knowledge had made Jason snap, made him do bad... things. Frank had disowned him years before because no matter what the _psychic_ had said, _he _did blame his son for his daughter's death. He wasn't particularly sad that Jason was dead, but he had unresolved anger inside too, and anger it seemed always had to find a way to escape.

The D.A. walked over silently to Jane and clasped him firmly on the shoulder. "Mister Jane. How strange it is to see you at a Red John crime scene?" his voice oozed sarcasm in the most polite of ways.

"District Attorney Copola."Jane grinned in cohesion but moved away so Frank's hand fell from his shoulder. "What brings you here this fine night?"

"Same ole, same ole." he smiled a smile that made even Jane flinch not because it was evil, but because it was so... friendly. "Why don't you go home, Mister Jane? There isn't anything for you to do here, and after all, you are being investigated for your involvement in my son's death. Probably not a good idea to have you hanging around here." There he was, still smiling.

"Probably, but I'll leave when Lisbon tells me." he said, though not really sure he'd even leave then. Not with that pompous bastard there smiling at him like he was an idiot.

"Go home, Jane." Lisbon's tired voice called to him. He was loosing his touch. She had snuck up on him which used to never happen. "We've gotten things covered here." She gave him the _please go, I don't feel like fighting with the DA tonight _look, and reluctantly he agreed. It was 2:30 am when he left the crime scene.

When he got home, he didn't have anything to do. He knew sleep would never come, so he went into the kitchen and started cleaning up the supper dishes he and Grace had left earlier. He hated leaving Grace there... he hated leaving anyone there truthfully. Red John... Simon... was his and to be banished like that was like a slap in the face. But he did understand Lisbon's reasoning. He along with Rigsby were being investigated in the death of Jason Copola and when you are somewhat at fault for the death of a prominent, high powered man's child, well, things got sticky... not the same as, say, if the death had of been a non-influential person's child... like his child. He knew what Copola was going through, having lost a child himself, but the rub was that his child wasn't a sick, twister murderer like Jason had been. Unfortunately and unfairly, the law didn't seem to be able to tell the difference.

Jane picked up Grace's empty plate and felt his mind shift directions from his problems to someone elses. He wondered how she was doing at the crime scene since he'd left. It was her first since coming back to work and, of course, it had to be that one. It was ironic, and it was evil. Surely God had a sick sense of humor.

He'd finally gotten his dishwasher loaded when he heard the knock on his door. Looking at the clock, he saw it was almost 3 am. He knew that it would only be one person.

He took off his apron, gently laying it across the chair he'd sat at at dinner and walked to the door. Taking precautions 'just in case' he peeped out of the peephole and then opened the door. Grace stood on the other side, visibly shaking. Her arms were wrapped around herself letting Jane know instantly that she was not alright. It wasn't an incredibly odd occurrence, her being there. She'd spent the night every night for the past month. She'd even begun thinking of the bedroom on the first floor as her own as much as she hated to admit it.

"I--" she started to talk, to say that she was sorry for knocking at 3 a.m. and how stupid she felt for being there. He held his fingers gently to her lips to stop her. He didn't want to hear her sorrys. He just wanted to make her feel better. He moved aside and, without speaking, motioned for her to come in.

That night, she wasn't alone in the first floor bedroom.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He watched like he watched every night. Out of sight... probably not out of mind of course, but then again, no one ever really thought to look for someone right under their noses. He had to laugh at that. Misty sure hadn't seen the signs. Truthfully, he was glad she was gone. She'd become a total nuisance... as if he would have ever let her live after she'd fulfilled her purpose. Stupid girl.

He'd watched as the redhead, Grace, entered the fake's house for the.... he'd lost count on how many nights he'd watched. The good thing about Patrick's house was all of the windows. In the past month, he'd had seen Jane and Grace eating, talking, sitting mostly, and then go to their separate bedrooms. Each night he could see Grace, sweet Grace, sliding into her bed causing him to moan as he pictured himself sliding into her. He'd mentally kicked himself night after night for not doing it when he'd had the chance at her sister's house, but at the time, it hadn't feel appropriate. He'd regretted not taking advantage of her every since. So every night after he would watched Grace, he would go home and take all of his lustful urges out roughly on Misty. Now Misty was gone....... now things were different.

With Misty's blood still staining his fingernails, he watched again, only this time, it was different. He could tell that 'Mister Jane' had feelings for the girl. Love, lust, or friendship, he couldn't be sure but as he watched them lay on her bed together, he knew what he had to do.

He'd had a plan from the start. But now, now things were going to be so much better. He took a mental snapshot of the 'happy couple' and left into the darkness.

'Red John' was going to take his grand stand. His last hurrah. He was changing his M.O. and going out with a bang.

Over the years, he'd killed 15 women (some the police never knew about), so 15 was going to be his magic number. Smiling, he slunk out into the night to find his 15, save one. Tomorrow was going to be a beautiful day.


	4. Red John's Plan

_a/n: Special thanks to kathiann and demonbunny who both thought this was a good idea. I don't own any of the characters. I do own the mistakes. I hope there aren't many. Also, I nothing about Sacramento television stations. Just go with it LOL_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

_**Chapter 4: Red John's Plan**_

_6:45 a.m. Pacific Time_

The next morning, the team arrived back at CBI headquarters at roughly the same time as they normally did. Lisbon was first followed by Cho. Cho had meant to be earlier since his niece, Cora, was flying in that afternoon, but he'd gotten sidetracked. He hoped Lisbon would have mercy on him and let him go pick her up anyway.

Grace showed up about fifteen minutes later, and Jane strolled in a few minutes behind Grace. He had a few things to take care of at home and had encouraged Grace to go ahead of him. As far as either knew, none of the team knew about their nightly co-habitation But Jane didn't really care if they did. He wasn't trying to hide anything. He was too old to hide things. If anyone asked, he'd tell the truth. Yes, Grace spent the night with him every night. Yes, it was to help her cope. No, they hadn't had sex. No, it hadn't crossed his mind.

Ten minutes after Jane arrived, Rigsby rolled in. Despite his activities the night before, his clothes were neatly pressed and his shirt and tie straight as an arrow. The only signs that he'd not been himself the night before were his slightly bloodshot eyes and disheveled hair. He spoke to no one as he took his place at his desk and began rummaging through his files. Sighing heavily as the headache he'd been fighting all morning began winning, he got up from his desk, went to the kitchen area and fixed himself a cup of coffee. The first of many he supposed he'd have that day. He would have been wrong.

Teresa Lisbon sat in her office watching the sad state of her team. She would have to something about it. It was her job to hold them together, no matter what was happening with them. She was getting pretty tired of all of their self-loathing crap though. They were a team, and they would get through hell and high water together. She couldn't decide if she wanted to yell at them or suspend them all until they got their damn acts straight. She felt compassion for them. Red John had gotten to her also, but it hurt to much to dwell on that. Instead of dealing with her own anger about what Red John had made her do (making her help him which in effect lead to Jane not getting his revenge) in any rational way, she had to fight the urge to take it out on the team. With every muscle in her body trying to restrain itself, she plowed open the door, and said, "Rigsby, Cho, Van Pelt, Jane, in here. Now." With that she shut the door and made her way to her desk. She sat on the corner and waited. She had to keep reminding herself that anger would get her nowhere except as the lead agent of a team with no members.

Cho was the first inside which didn't surprise Lisbon in the least. Grace was next followed by Jane. Rigsby slunk up the back. He was sober at least. That was a little progress she figured.

"Ok." she began in her most authoritative voice. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I know it's been hard for everyone. It has me too." They had all seemed to have forgotten that Red John had held her captive twice. She was nearly as traumatized as the rest. The difference was she held it in at work... or at least tried. She had a job and it needed to be done. Home, though... home was a different story. "But you have all got to snap out of it. No matter what, you have got to get a handle on your guilt." she looked at Rigsby. "-- and your anger." To Cho. "Your emotions." Grace. "And your self-loathing." her eyes stopped their voyage on Jane. "We are here to do a job. People need us, and I"ll be damned if Minelli disbands us because we can't deal with whatever little traumas Red John sends our way. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am." it was Van Pelt the first to answer. The newest agent was fearful of what would happen if she didn't. Fear tended to be a constant in her life now, even while spending her nights at Jane's house.

Cho and Rigsby nodded, and after a brief pause, Jane finally nodded briefly as well mainly to get out of the meeting as soon as possible and back to his couch. Self-loathing or not, faking sleep was much better than being fussed at by the 'boss'.

"Good." Lisbon replied, easing off of her desk and back to her chair. She felt better that the yelling was over (not that she'd actually yelled, but she had felt like the principal of a class full of adults). "Now--"

The door opened and Virgil Minelli stuck his head in. "You finished with your powwow yet, Agent Lisbon? There's something you all really need to see."

The team filed out of Lisbon's office, following Minelli to a TV set that sat in the kitchen area. "We got a call a few minutes ago from the news producer over at Channel 4 named Chris Sullivan." Minelli began. "He was frantic. It took a few minutes to calm him down. When he finally did, Sullivan told me that he'd gotten a call from a man who said he had a woman and would kill her if he didn't broadcast his webcam. The producer said he thought it was just a joke and hung up. Two minutes later, he got an email with the picture of a dead woman holding a sign."

"What did the sign say?" Lisbon asked, her throat growing dry. It couldn't be--

"It said that another woman would die if he didn't broadcast his feed asap. Mr. Sullivan said he feared not to." Minelli turned then and switched on the television. A busty blond woman with overly styled hair and a robust man with glasses sat at the anchor desk. Both looked visibly shaken. They were morning show anchors... paid to be perky. Nothing was perky about what was happening.

The woman was the first to speak.

_"If there are any small children in the room, please send them out. The situation we find ourselves in here is nothing for them to see."_

A live feed popped up in a small square next to the female anchor's head. It was a picture of a man, mid 30s, jet black hair and eyes.

"Simon." Grace said, her voice cold and lifeless. She wasn't even shocked. Of course it was Red John. When was it not?

_"This man goes by the name of Red John and he has... requested some time to talk to the viewing public. Specifically the California Bureau of Investigation. Red John--"_ _she said, letting him know it was his time to speak._

"_Why thank you, Pam. And let me just say, you look absolutely stunning this beautiful morning. I watch Channel 4 every day...just for you, my darling." a broad smile filled his face and he licked his lips suggestively. When she didn't respond in any way he liked, he said, "Ms. Miller, I advise you to treat me nicely. I would hate for the death of another woman to be on the network's hands, wouldn't you?"_

_She nodded, and shut her eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek. The sight made him laugh even harder. "Don't worry, Ms. Miller. The next death won't be on your pretty little head. It will be on the CBI's." His jovial mood darkened as he took time to stare directly into his camera. "The reason I'm here speaking to you today is that I'm tired of running. I'm tired of killing... well that's a lie. I could never be tired of that. The thrill. The utter bliss it gives... gave me. The CBI knows my name.. not that it's done them any good catching up to me. I'm sure Misty Dixon wished you had gotten there sooner." His expression became almost nostalgic. "I know you've already found her. I know. She was sure that you would, but she assumed it would be before she died." As quickly as it changed somber, his mood shifted again. He was lighthearted again. "Anyway, I have decided that I to go out with a bang. To test the mental capabilities and loyalties of my good friend Patrick Jane." He leaned closer to the camera which was nothing more than a webcam. The room behind him was solid black. He wore a light gray shirt and dark gray pants. The lack of color made it look like they were watching an old black and white TV instead of a twenty inch flat screen. "Mister Jane-" he said in a low, playful voice. "You're watching, aren't you?" he raised his hand to the camera view and wiggled his fingers like he was waving high. "I do so hope that Sullivan man could do one thing right and let you know to tune in. How smart are you-- really-- Mister Jane? Not smart enough to save your wife and child. Not smart enough to save your friend the redhead." He closed his eyes and took a deep, ragged breath. "Letting that little redhead get away without having some more fun with her... well lets just say that I don't have many regrets, but that-- that's one. Is she watching too? I bet she is."_

Grace flinched, but didn't speak. Her eyes were glued to the madman on the televison screen. "He's just taunting you, Van Pelt. Stay calm." Lisbon told her, knowing it wouldn't do any good.

_Red John went on. "And what about the brunette? Is she watching? She liked me, Mister Jane. She did. Have you forgiven her yet?"_

Lisbon's eyes shot to Jane instantly. It was something she'd been wondering a lot lately. If she did the right thing at Faith Kingston's house letting Red John go like that.

_"And of course, the rest of the team. Kimball Cho, is it? Straight as an arrow Cho. And Wayne Rigsby. The newest convert to the religion of alcoholism. I hope you are all watching too. After all, any friend of Patrick Jane's is a friend of mine." His smile would have scared a devil. "Lets play a game, shall we, to determine who the smartest man in the room is. Once and for all--"_

Standing and watching the bastard who had killed his family-- was threatening his friends, made Jane shutter with anger. If only he could reach inside the television and wring Red John's neck. He crossed his arms over his chest and focused on the monitor, unblinking. He knew that whatever Simon James had planned, it wasn't going to end well. But, then again, as long as it ended in Simon's death, then it would be worth it. Or so he thought at the time.

Red John smiled. _"I have killed fifteen women that the CBI know about since 1998. Jane, that counts your lovely child who I made a woman right before I killed her."_

If he was expecting a reaction from Jane, he didn't get one. Jane was frozen solid. The only time he moved was when Grace placed an understanding hand on his shoulder and he jerked away. He didn't want to feel comfort or peace or that everything would be okay. He wanted to focus on Red John, and all the ways he was going to torture him.

_"I have either taken or will have taken fifteen women in the Sacramento area by the end of the day. Each hour I will kill one of them, just like this one." He moved so the audience could see a mangled female from lying lifeless behind him. Her throat had been slashed. It was to dark in the room to be able to tell her exact facial features. The crimson running down her neck was the only bit of color in the room. _

"That's the one he killed so the producer would take him seriously and put him on the air." Minelli vocalized what the rest of the team already knew.

_"This lovely lady's name was Erica Blue. I'm sure her family really wishes that she wasn't dead. She was going to graduate college tomorow. Business major. Pity." He gave an uninterested shrug and kept on talking. "That leaves fourteen. Fourteen women, Mister Jane. Every hour I will kill one woman if you don't find her in time. I'm not completely heartless. I will give you clues-- riddles as it were-- to help you find them. You find the girl, free her, and on to the next. Even if she dies, we move on. Fourteen lives hang in your hands, Mister Jane. Fourteen families are praying that you bring their daughters home safe. Fourteen loved ones hope that you can put your hatred of me away so you can focus on your task because, lets face it, you can't focus on finding me if you are trying to find the missing women. Who do you want more?" __Red John looked like the cat who ate the canary. It wasn't a good sign. _

_Red John's posture changed as he looked into the camera more intensely._ _"Women of Sacramento. Heed my warning. No one is safe. I already have fourteen others of you picked out. Some are already with me, some will be found shortly. This girl--" he held up a picture of a very attractive woman. Late 20s with short, black, spiky hair. Her photo was taken recently and in it she looked frightened_. "_This is lucky lady number two. Her name is Cara Workman. She's just a whore with no real family so she'll be no real loss, but best to start low and work our way up, right Mister Jane? Get your mind exercised this morning before the real fun begins? First clue: I like the color red. It's so great to see. When I peer through your window, it's great to be me. The time is now exactly 7 am, Mister Jane. Cara dies at 8 a.m. unless you can find her. Good--" _

Jane turned to leave before Red John had finished speaking to him. No smile crossed his lips. None of his youthful vigor could be found. He was already heading for the elevators when Lisbon caught him by the arm. "You aren't going anywhere until we can compose ourselves and get a game plan." she said firmly.

"Try and stop me." he said, walking around her and into the elevator.


	5. Cara Workman

_A/N: First of all, thanks for the people who have stuck with this story and reviewed. It makes me very happy. Also, there is 'some' language in this chapter so be aware of that. I don't own any of these characters (even the name Cara came from the episode 'Redwood'). All mistakes are mine._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Chapter 5: Cara Workman

7:00 a.m.

Agent Teresa Lisbon watched as the elevator doors closed behind her consultant, her friend. Every since she'd seen Red John's face on the television, heard the voice that she still had nightmares about (not that she'd told the team), she'd felt sick to her stomach. And she'd felt bad for the that pain she knew Jane was going through. If it was this bad for her, she couldn't imagine how bad it was for him. Her experience with Red John had been an intense ten minute conversation at Grace's sister's house and a gun stand off at Jane's home in which Grace was shot. Those two brief encounters had scarred her. Lisbon let herself close her eyes and put her feelings into compartments. She placed her sorrow for Jane's family and (if she was honest with herself) anger at Jane for leaving them when they really needed him into one compartment. Next to that, she filed away her compassion for what Grace must be going through. Red John had tortured her, nearly killed her, and she knew that Grace hadn't been handling it well. Who would? She put the urgency of finding those poor girls Red John had taken away into another place in her mind. Her brain didn't work well when she was pressured. And lastly she placed her own weariness, anger, and fear of Red John away in another compartment. When she was finished, she felt nothing but determination. She could do this.

"Jane leave?" Cho asked coming up behind his boss.

"Yeah, he's gone off on his own hunch." She said almost bitterly. Darn it, she thought, placing that emotion back in it's compartment where it belonged.

"Knowing Jane, his hunch is probably right."

"Probably."

"It would have been nice for him to share with the rest of us."

"Yeah, well, he didn't. So now it's up to us." She said, walking around Cho and back to the rest of the unit who were still standing watching the television in the kitchen area.

_"Channel 4 News has learned that Cara Workman, Red John's second intended victim, is 23." the busty, blonde anchor explained. Her fearful countenance hadn't changed since the last time Lisbon had seen her. "Criminal records indicate she's been arrested three times for prostitution and has served about two months in jail over the last five years."_

_The male anchor cut in. "That may be, Pam. But none of that is reason for this young girl to die at the hands of a mad mad. No one deserves that."_

_"You're right, of course not, Chris. These are just the only facts we can find about the young lady."_

_It was Chris Mark's time to speak. The robust man with jet black hair which was slicked back away from his face, fixed his silver-rimmed glasses into the camera. "If anyone sees this woman," the picture Red John had showed of Cara flashed on the screen. "If you know her, please either call the station or the CBI." He looked down at his watch. "The serial killer known as Red John has promised that she will die at 8 a.m. if she isn't found."_

"Alright people." Lisbon spoke up as she went over and turned off the T.V.. "We need to find Cara Workman, and we need to find her quickly. Does anyone remember the riddle Red John gave?"

"I like the color red. It's so great to see. When I peer through your window, it's great to be me" Grace said almost in a trace state. The redhead's hands were tucked safely under her elbows and she hadn't blinked in who knows how long. She had to keep reminding herself to breathe. That there were girls out there who needed her to not fall apart.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It wasn't until the elevator reached the second floor that Jane began questioning his decision to leave. He knew where the girl was, of course. _I like the color red. It's so great to see. When I peer through your window, it's great to be me. _Red John had put her in one of the rear rooms of the Scarlet Pier, a low class eatery a few blocks from the CBI building. The clues had been easy.

_I like the color red. _Red= scarlet

_It's so great to see. When I peer through your window. _Peer equaled Pier and since Sacramento had no piers, well it was obvious. Jane had eaten at the Scarlet Pier once or twice since he'd worked at the CBI. It was a smaller type building, painted red and orange to mimic the colors of the sunset. The ramp leading up to the front door was in the form a pier going over the ocean. It was nice, if not high end. He knew she was in the back because of the window reference. The Scarlett Pier was covered with windows so he couldn't have her in front because someone would see her. She had to be in the back where there weren't as many windows. That's where he'd find her, and if he was lucky, he'd find Red John.

He'd figured all of this out while Red John was still talking on the television, and when Lisbon tried to stop him from leaving, he didn't feel like he had time to explain things to her. They would want to know _why _he knew she was there. The why would take time to explain and time was something neither he nor the girl had. They would also want a task force on the scene. There would be cars and people dressed in black with bulletproof vests on. They would wait. They would be safe. Red John would get away even if he allowed the girl to life. He couldn't chance that. He couldn't. He.... "Damn it." he muttered angrily at himself as he pressed the emergency stop button and hit the button to go back up. "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" he cursed bitterly, furious at himself for the loyalty he felt to the CBI team, and the girl. If he went in himself, he'd probably get Red John, but the girl, Cara, would probably die in the process. He couldn't have another death on his hands. He couldn't. And the day was still young. Still 13 more girls to save.

Jane was bitter. Jane was angry. But Jane knew what he had to do. And he knew that to do it he needed the CBI team.

The elevator doors opened and he walked purposefully to his unit's part of the bullpen. "Scarlet Pier." he said without introduction.

He got their attention, but maybe not the way he thought he would. "We already know that, Jane. Grace figured out the riddle."

Jane's eyes darted to the young agent sitting at her desk, typing away at her computer, but he could tell (for the first time in over a month) she had color to her cheeks and she was very much into her work. He felt a little warmth in his heart with the thought that maybe Grace would be OK. That she would mentally recover from Red John's attack on her. That feeling didn't last long as he looked at the clock on the wall. 7:09.

"She has her in the back of the building away from the main windows." Jane went on. "Since this is the first girl of the day, I'm not sure if he'll be there with he or not."

"Then how will he kill her at 8?" Rigsby chimed in for the first time. He was sitting at his desk, shirtsleeves rolled up like he was all business. Strangely, he couldn't even tell he had a headache any more. He had a purpose today and that was to save those girls' lives, no matter what he'd done in the past. It was strangely liberating... in a sick way.

"I don't know. Either he has something on a timer--"

"Like a bomb." Cho said.

Jane pointed to him in confirmation. "Or he has done something to her that will cause her death at around 8 o'clock."

"Slit her wrists maybe? Wounded her so she'll bleed out in about an hour if she doesn't get help?" Grace asked trying hard not to look at her own scars on her wrists.

"Could be." Jane said thoughtfully. "That would make the most sense. Cara is the first girl of the day, not counting the girl he killed for the TV station to take him seriously. He'll want to wait until the end for the big finish."

Lisbon listened and made her own mental evaluation of what the team should do. "Ok. I'll tell Minelli. We'll get our gear and leave in the next ten minutes."

"Not me." Jane said after everyone else had gone to get their raid gear. "I'm leaving now, Lisbon."

"The hell you are." she spat back. "You are either staying here or going with us. You are _not_ messing this up."

His face fell. Lisbon realized that he hadn't meant it too. It was a reflex, probably of holding all things Red John in for the past five years. "It's Red John." his voice came out as a pathetic, pleading whisper, and he hated it.

"Yes, and we will get him. But right now, our focus is on the girl."

"If we get Red John, he won't have a chance to kill any other girl." Jane said with convection, finding his voice again.

Lisbon knew he was right, but at that moment, they had no idea where Red John was. They did, however, know where the girl was, and they were wasting time. "One thing at a time, Jane. We get the girl, then we focus on Red John."

"Then there will be another girl."

"There's always another girl." Lisbon said exasperated, finally walking away to Minelli's office. She didn't know what Jane was going to do, but she couldn't dwell on it. She had her job to do and wasting time trying to order Jane around was futile. It would be like talking to a wall, a wall that talked back.

Five minutes later when Lisbon came out of Minelli's office, Jane was gone. Her stomach dropped slightly at the sight, but made herself collect herself quickly. They had a job to do and they were going to do it. She, Rigsby, Cho, and Van Pelt were geared up to go to the Scarlet Pier. Minelli was manning the phones, basically saying, "No comment." to all of the nosey reporters wanting a story.

"Ready?" she asked the team before her. They all nodded and Lisbon had to wonder for a second if they really were. Rigsby had been so drunk the night before that he couldn't walk. Cho still held anger toward Rigsby, but Lisbon didn't know why. And Grace had only been to one crime scene since she'd been back to work. That was the team that those fourteen girls had to count on. She had to laugh. Poor girls.

She was surprised when she reached her black SUV and found Jane sitting in the passenger side. Without saying a word, he nodded to her. She gestured back in kind and drove off. It was 7:27 a.m.

Lisbon gave Jane two options upon arriving at the Scarlet Pier restaurant. One, he could put on his bullet proof vest. Or two, he could stay in the car. Knowing it would waste time and be stupid, he reluctantly agreed to put the vest on. He knew Lisbon's plan. She, however, didn't know his. Silently, Lisbon crept around the right side of the restaurant toward the back. Her gun was drawn. Rigsby was her flank. Cho and Grace went around the left side, guns drawn like Lisbon and Rigsby's. Jane was instructed by Lisbon to stay back at the SUV and wait until he got an all clear signal. Once Lisbon found the one window in the back of the eatery and saw that no one appeared to be in the building except the raven haired Cara Workman who was standing with her hands tied with ropes toward a chain hanging from the ceiling, she turned to signal Jane, who was no where to be seen.

"Shit." she muttered under her breath, then had to focus on her objective. Rescuing Cara Workman. Jane would have to take care of himself. Her only request was that Jane not do anything that jeopardized her getting Cara out alive.

Lisbon and Rigsby continued around the building until they got to the back door. Cho crept over to them. Grace stayed back around the corner to watch for anyone exiting the restaurant. "Looks like the girl is alone." Lisbon informed him.

"What about a bomb? Traps on the doorknobs?"

"Doesn't appear to be any. But still. We'll proceed with caution. I'll go in first, Cho you come in next. Rigsby cover the right side. Grace will stay on the left."

Rigsby nodded by way of saying he understood and crept through the knee high wisps of grass to the corner of the restaurant.

"Ready?" Lisbon mouthed to Cho. "One. Two."

"Three." Cho said as he kicked in the door allowing Lisbon to go in before him. Her gun was drawn and she pointed to the figure in the room. "Hands up. Now!" The man stopped momentarily then resumed untying the young girls hands. "Damn it, Jane. How did you get in here?"

"Front door." he said, not stopping as he removed the ropes from the girls right wrist and started on the left. Cara was barely conscious and her body stood limp. She had been tied to the ceiling, her wrists slashed along with a few other strategically placed cuts on her body. All had been meant to kill her slowly, so she'd bleed to death within an hour.

"I could have killed you." Lisbon nearly roared, her anger getting the best of her.

"Then I would have been dead and you'd have been rid of me. Either way, you win. Now, call this in. This girl needs help."

Lisbon wanted so badly to tell him off, but she knew it would do no good. Aggravated, she placed her gun back in it's holster, motioned for Cho to search the room to make sure they were alone, and pulled out her cell to contact Minelli. To her surprise, he already knew they had found the girl. It was all over T.V. he told her. Seemed camera crews had followed them from the CBI headquarters and was relaying their information live via satellite. As if Lisbon needed something else to hinder their investigation.

Lisbon hung up the phone, her mind whirling, and went over to the girl Jane had laid gently down onto the floor. She was alive. Barely. "Ambulance is on it's way." she told him.

"Good." he paused. He continued looking at the girl, but spoke to Lisbon. "I'm sorry I didn't wait. And I'm sorry I was a jerk to you."

Despite herself, she smiled. "I'm used to you being a jerk by now. Doesn't mean I like it all the time."

"I guess not." They heard sirens in the distance.

"Here comes the Calvary."

"Good." he said again. "Lisbon, I didn't come in here half-cocked. You need to know that. I saw the TV satellite trucks pull up behind us and knew that Red John wouldn't stay here, even if he was in here. Not with those satellite trucks. I saw no need to wait."

She didn't say anything to that. She wanted too, but she didn't trust herself. This entire situation was hard and honestly a mess. The silence of the room was broken by Cho's cell. Neither Jane nor Lisbon listened in, but it could be heard that Cho was talking to his niece, Cora, and that she had gotten an earlier flight. Her plane had landed earlier than expected. "Take a cab and go straight to my house." he told her. "There is a key taped to the underside of my doormat. Go inside, take the key with you, and lock it up tight.... I'll be home when I can... I'm not trying to scare you, Cora. I just want you to be safe." With that he hung up. He figured lots of concerned fathers, husbands, brothers, uncles, had had similar conversations with their female loved ones mirroring that one that day. With Red John on a killing spree, no one could take any chances.

The paramedics came in right about the time Cho hung up his phone and holstered his weapon. Jane and Lisbon moved out of the way so the professionals could do their job. Cara was weak, but she was alive and they wanted to keep her that way. "Time?" Jane asked Lisbon.

"7:56" she told him.

He nodded. They both knew what this meant. Soon, Red John would contact them with the name of another girl he intended to kill, and another riddle to her whereabouts.

Four minutes later, that's exactly what he did.


	6. Barbara Miller

_A/N: Thanks to the people who reviewed the last chapter :) I know this is kind of a different story, but I hope it still goes over well. I don't own any of the characters... well maybe Barbara Miller. She might wish I didn't though (being created to be tortured and all). Oh well... all mistakes are mine. Things you should know.. I know even less about Sacramento schools than I do about Sacramento tv stations, so just take it with a grain of salt and just go with it. _

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Chapter 5: Barbara Miller

8:00 am

Cara Workman was taken away by ambulance a few short minutes after it had arrived at the scene. The woman was understandably shaken, but though conscious, couldn't give the CBI team any information about who had abducted her. Of course it was Red John's, aka Simon James', plan for her to be the first (well second) victim, but the team needed to know if he had an accomplice. Someone helping him hunt down the women and get them ready for the next piece of his puzzle. Cara hadn't remembered what had happened except she was walking home from work (i.e. from the street from where she was selling herself) and was jumped from behind. She was too weak to give any more of a statement and the EMTs insisted on taking her away immediately.

The name of the second victim came this time in the form of a text on Patrick Jane's phone. _Barbara Miller. See the Wizard. Tick Tock._

It was within a second that Jane had a battle of with his conscience. On one hand, the text had came directly to him. He could disappear in the crowd, find Barbara Miller without the rest of the team on his butt, and hopefully find Red John. It was the same dilemma he'd had at seven a.m., only this time it was harder because he had to physically will his legs to walk up to Lisbon and show her the text.

But he did. If only to prove to himself that innocent lives weren't worth his revenge on Red John. He wondered bitterly that if he told himself that enough, he'd believe it. _The sky is purple, Patrick. It's purple. See. It's purple._ When all the while, he'd know it was blue.

Lisbon scanned the text briefly, then found the rest of the team who were inside the dull gray backroom of the restaurant looking over the scene for any information they could find. "We have the next victim. Name. Barbara Miller."

"Clue?" Cho asked, kneeling on the floor, seeing if he could find any footprints in the large amounts of red blood spilled on the floor under the chairs which had held Cara upright.

"See the Wizard. Tick Tock." Lisbon replied, scanning the room herself. "Van Pelt."

"Ma'am." Grace turned to her boss almost like she was shot. She was still jumpy and it still ticked her off to no end. For her second crime scene, she thought she was doing pretty well. But she knew that 'pretty well' wasn't well enough.

"Go back to the CBI. Find everything you can on Barbara Miller. I want to know everything. Her damn cat's name if she has one."

"Got it." Grace replied, walking out of the restaurant and to one of the black SUVs parked just outside the police _Do Not Cross _tape. Behind the SUV sat the satellite trucks of all major local television stations and each had a reporter outside facing the restaurant, giving a live report. Apparently, the rampage of Red John was enough to polarize the local news. Grace wondered idly if it would be enough to pre-empt The Young and the Restless. She wanted to know what the hell Sharon was thinking with her unborn baby. But, alas, she knew that the only thing on her DVR when she got home was a bunch of live news feeds that had taped during that time. She knew she wasn't quite right when she thought about it would be a very good reason to catch Red John soon so the tv stations would be back to regular programming by noon. Shaking her head at her insensitivity, Grace drove back to the CBI headquarters.

Back inside, Cho walked over to Jane who was leaning against the single windowsill. "Well?"

"Well what?"

Cho crossed his arms and looked at Jane with big, believing eyes. Out of all of the CBI team, Cho was always adamant about not believing in Jane's abilities, but he was always the first to ask if he had any hunches. "Well, do you know where the woman is?"

"Not exactly." Jane said almost bitterly. He'd thought of nothing else since getting the text. He wanted to know where Barbara Miller was like the rest of them, but he couldn't focus enough to decipher the clues.

"Why text Jane?" Rigsby asked from the other side of the room. His back was to the team and he was examining the red smiling face which had been left in the room. It had been so dark that the team hadn't realized it was there until they had inspected the room for it. And there it had been. Just like the other crime scenes. Only there was something about it that was wrong. Even Jane couldn't figure out what it was. "Why not go to the television stations like before?" Rigsby finished his thought.

"He's trying to make this personal." Jane said, staring off into space like it would give him some great answer.

"It's already personal." Cho replied.

"It is. But he's got a reason for all of it. Cara Workman. This place."

"Have you ever been here before?" Lisbon asked, examining the chains hanging from the ceiling.

"I've eaten lunch here a few times."

"Ever with your wife?" she had to ask. She didn't want to, but she had too. She hated bringing up his wife, but anything to help with the investigation.

"No. It wasn't around back then, plus--" he paused and a faint smiled ghosted on his tired lips. "She wasn't one for 'down home' cooking. She liked her meals to have a more sophisticated taste."

"She liked rich things." Cho stated the obvious.

His statement actually made Jane laugh. "Yeah. Obviously. I was very rich, and she liked me." The smile faded as his eyes refocused and unfortunately found themselves downcast to the floor where the blood had pooled. "She didn't like messy things." he went on, almost as if he was talking to himself. "She liked things neat and orderly. She'd spend hours cleaning even after the maid left."

It was then that Lisbon got a hunch. She didn't know where it came from (maybe hanging out with Jane so much) but she pulled out her pad and pen and began asking Jane questions. At first, he reluctantly answered, but once he figured out what she was doing, he answered willingly, if not sadly. "What was your wife's favorite color?"

"Red." he knew the coincidence was uncanny, and he also knew that he didn't believe in coincidences

"Favorite TV show?"

"Um.. she liked crime dramas? Medical dramas? ER maybe. She never really said." It was unimaginably sad for him to realize that he had no idea what her favorite tv show had been. He didn't know why that little fact hit him so hard.

"Movies she liked?" Lisbon asked again, jotting all of this down. Maybe there was a pattern.

"She liked the one where the guy was a pirate and he died, but he didn't die... and the guy had the sword. I never watched it."

"The Princess Bride." Cho knew the movie. It had been his niece, Cora's, favorite, and he wondered if she'd made it to his house safely. He mentally made a note to call her when he got a free chance and check in. He would come off as the protective uncle, but he didn't care. You couldn't be too careful in Sacramento on that day.

"Yes. The Princess Bride. My daughter liked it too as I recall."

"Any others?"

"Um--" he had to think. It had been so long ago. "The Wizard of Oz." And once he said it, it hit them all. "She loved the Wizard of Oz. When my daughter was in first grade, she played Dorthy in her class production and my wife was so proud because it had been her favorite movie as a child."

"Ok, good. That's good. That's a clue. Red John's text said, _See the Wizard_. Think it has something to do with the Wizard of Oz?"

"It could." Jane agreed, his mind working overtime. And then like all of the other ideas he had, it just hit him. "My daughter went to school at a private elementary school in Malibu."

"That's too far. He wouldn't go all the way to Malibu. Not today." said Lisbon.

"No, but there is a public one in Sacramento. Maybe he's using a figurative clue instead of a literal one. Maybe Barbara Miller is at the elementary school. It's out for summer. It's not a big stretch."

Lisbon opened her mouth to answer, when her phone rang in her pocket. "Van Pelt. What do you have?" she asked, noting the young woman's name on her caller ID.

"I found out all I could about Barbara Miller. She's 34, divorced, and a teacher at Sacramento Elementary."

"She's a teacher." Lisbon mouthed to Jane, who's heart sank and rose strangely at the same time. Sank because she was probably an innocent teacher who didn't deserve what was happening to her, and rose because their hunches were right. She was probably at the school.. probably at the gym (since most public elementary schools don't have auditoriums).. and probably bleeding to death as they spoke.

"Contact her family." Lisbon reluctantly told Van Pelt. "Tell them that she's been kidnapped and that we are doing everything we can to find her."

"You sure, boss?" Grace didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but she'd do whatever Lisbon told her to do.

"Yes. This will more than likely leak on the television anyway and I don't want them finding out about it that way. Do you have an address?"

"Yeah. 314 Palm Street."

"Better to go there in person." Lisbon replied. "That way you can ask questions. See if maybe Barbara knew Simon James. It's a long shot, but who knows?"

"Got it boss."

Lisbon hung up the phone and nodded to her team. They left the scene to the local PD and made their way to the elementary school.

Once the black SUV left, the satellite trucks went also. It was annoying and it was dangerous, but it was the way of the world in California high profile cases. Jane knew in his heart that Red John wouldn't be there. He knew it, but still, he went. He had to find out. At 8:47, they arrived at the school. Lisbon and Jane got out first. Followed by Cho, who happened to stop long enough to see Rigsby sneak a drink from a silver flask he'd hidden in under his vest. Cho was furious, but knew that he'd have to take care of it later. However, if Rigsby's drinking affected the well-being of any of the hostages that day, Cho wouldn't hold back just because Rigsby had been his friend.

Their bulletproof gear was already on so it didn't take long to enter. It was more dangerous since the gym didn't have any windows so no one could see what was going on. Jane was ordered to stay back at the SUV and this time he obeyed. He watched as the team crept around the large brick structure and out of his line of sight. It was quite, inhumanly quiet, for what seemed like an eternity. Even the birds had stopped chirping, and Jane found himself wondering exactly what sort of pull Red John actually had.

The satellite trucks were a block away. They would have been closer if not for the local PD using all of the extra hands they could muster to block it and investigate the crime scene at Scarlet Pier. Jane looked over the elementary school. It was a one story brown brick structure. Not exactly new looking but not old. It had a porch that met the circular driveway where he was located with a flagpole to the right in a little garden/sitting area. Two sets of playgrounds flanked the building. He was glad the kids were out for the summer. Kids didn't need to see this. No one did really.

The quite was getting to him, and he wished it would just stop.

His wish was granted in the form of a loud gunshot. It startled him so much that he took cover against the ground before he realized that it had came from the gymnasium. Without thinking, he got up and ran, stumbling over his feet, until he finally reached the back of the school and pounded through the double doors leading to the gym. He froze when he saw his colleagues all lying in various places on the floor, and a young woman, he presumed, Barbara Miller, strapped with her hands bound behind a free standing basketball goal. There was a single gunshot wound to her head.

Jane looked down at his watch. It was 9:00.


	7. Melody Taylor Part I

**_Chapter 7: Melody Taylor Part 1_**

The gun's trigger had been on a timer.

That was the first thing that Jane noticed as he entered the gymnasium of Sacramento Elementary. It was sitting on a table right in front of the young woman, now deceased young woman, who had been tied to one of the school's portable basketball goals. She'd been shot once in the head. Right between the eyes. She'd had no hope for being brought back.

All around him, agents Cho, Rigsby, and Lisbon were in various states of getting up from the floor. They had all three ducked and covered when the shot rang out. Cho had been the closest to the victim. He'd obviously been trying desperately to reach her before the gun went off. He was now on the floor cursing loudly, something he never did. Everything was finally getting to him. The the impenetrable Agent Cho. The last case involving Red John, Rigsby's drinking (which reminded him too much of his father for him to stand), now this case with the weight of all of those dead and dying girl on his head, he felt himself slipping then stopped. He couldn't. He had to be strong. He felt he was the only one on the team who still was.

At 9:01 while the team began studying the scene for any evidence (not that they thought they'd get any. Red John aka Simon James hardly left any clues) a loud voice rang out from above them. If Jane had been a religious man, he might have thought it was the voice of God. As it was, he knew it was probably the principal. Or someone in the office over the loud speaker. "Is there a Patrick Jane in there?" the male voice asked, shaking.

"Yes." Jane answered, hands in his pockets, neck looking up toward the ceiling.

"Mr. Jane. There is a package in the office for you. We think you'd better come and open it right away."

Jane didn't stop to see Lisbon's reaction as he ran out of the gray double doors, out into the hall, paused to get his barrings, and turned right toward the office. He walked inside the glass enclosed room and nodded to the three uniformed men and one civilian (more than likely the principal) inside. "This was found by these officers in Ms. Miller's room a few minutes ago." the principal (a porkly man, maybe mid 50s, graying hair) told him. Jane took the box as it was given to him.

The box was brown cardboard, about the size of a loaf of bread. His name was scribbed on the outside in red. Jane knew that it wasn't actual blood, but the symbolism was there anyway. Underneath his name was the red smiling face he'd known for years.

"There was a tip by someone claiming to be Red John who said where this box was located. I wanted to take it to the bomb squad." one of the officers said. Jane noticed that the young officers name was Harris. "But Macky wouldn't let me." he sounded a bit bitter about that.

"Got a call from a Minelli that anything having to do with Red John was to go directly to either Agent Lisbon or Patrick Jane if his name was on it. He said no shitting around about it." the older officer Jane pegged as Macky chimed in, glaring at the younger officer. His arms were crossed and his words were firm. Harris shut up.

Not caring about their petty office politics, Jane tuned them out and opened the box. Once he opened the lid, he noticed that it had a clear container inside. Inside the container was red liquid. Blood. Inside the blood there was a note folded neatly inside a clear plastic baggie. Jane hesitated briefly, opened the second container, and pulled out the bag. His hands became stained with blood as he opened the bag and pulled out the crisp, white piece of paper. It smugged where his red fingers touched it.

_Mister Jane,_

_I do so hope you saved poor Ms. Miller. Did you know she was pregnant? I didn't either until she told me. 8 weeks she said. Like that would keep me from killing her. Such a silly, silly bitch. Is she alive now? Is the baby ok? hmmm... so many questions. Well, it doesn't matter now, does it? Tell you what, I'll let the woman I had to kill so that ass of a tv producer would let me on his program count for your cause. So, see, I'm not entirely evil. It saves one worthless girl at least. I guess that makes us on lovely lady number 4. You'll love this one, Mister Jane. It's a scream. _

_Do you like fun houses, Mister Jane? All of those mirrors. All of that darkness. Things just jumping out of you at every turn. And the best part of all... you never know if what you are seeing is what is truly there. Think about it, Mister Jane. _

_Whore's name is Melody Taylor. She is 24 years old and hails from Leapers Hollow, Tennessee. An aspiring actress, I found out. Begged me not to kill her too. What's with the begging? Will you beg, Jane? Will the girl?_

_I hope you found this letter in time. This blood, well it's Melody's of course. She may not make it to 10. I'm not sure. I get so bored sometimes._

_With all my hate. :)_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

"Lisbon!" Jane yelled, running back into the gymnasium. Instead of the three people he'd left in there looking over the body, there now seemed to be hundreds. Local PD was helping the CBI gather evidence, but Jane knew it didn't matter. Barbara Miller was just a random person. She had probably been at the wrong place at the wrong time. And now she was dead.

"What is it?" Lisbon asked, finishing up a conversation she was having with an officer before excusing him and walking over to Jane.

Jane said nothing, just handed Lisbon the letter. The first thing Lisbon noticed was the blood stains on both it and Jane's hands. "We need to get this to forensics. See if there is anything special about the blood."

"There is more in the office." Jane said, catching his breath from his brief jog.

Lisbon looked down and read the note carefully. She didn't want to miss any details. "Ok," she said finally. "Do you know where this woman is, Jane?"

"Carnival somewhere. Fun house definitely. Scream. He said it was a scream. How about the scream house at the Norton Park?"

"The house that is a replica of the house from the movie Scream, right?" Norton Park was a newly erected amusement park about fifteen minutes outside of town. It wasn't big like Disney or Busch Gardens, but it was coming into it's own. It's claim to fame was that it housed rides designed to look like movies. Think a smaller scale Universal Studios. The Scream House had been one of the main attractions when it opened six months before. It was a fun house full of mazes, black lights, hidden tunnels, and two way mirrors. And of course, Billy Loomis tried to kill you at the end.

"I think that's where she is." Jane told her with certainty.

"Ok." she said and gathered Cho and Rigsby from their duties. She explained the situation and that she was going to let the Local PD take care of the Miller crime scene. They were going to go to the Scream house at Norton Park and find Melody Taylor before 10 a.m. They weren't going to lose another victim.

After the team dispersed, Lisbon looked down at her watch. It was 9:24.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Outside of the gym, Cho watched as his former friend, Rigsby, tried to conceal the fact that he was drawing a swig from his metal canister. "ENOUGH!" Cho yelled, grabbing it and tossing it as far as he could. It ended up landing somewhere in the school parking lot. "No more drinking. Do you understand me? We have girls to find and if you keep this up, your ass is going to be wasted before the end of the day." Mentally exhausted, Cho sat down on a curb next to the black SUV they had arrived in and sighed. They had to wait for Lisbon and Jane anyway. "Look, man." he said more calmly. "I get it. I do. You feel guilty over letting Jason Copola die. And I gave you hell for that, and I'm not sorry for it. But you have got to get it together. No matter what I said, yes, Jason did deserve to die. Did you need to see to it? No. But you didn't put him in that position. Red John did, and Jason did. You didn't murder him, Rigsby. No matter what his father is saying. Now you have got to chalk it up, stop this drinking, and focus on work before some innocent girl dies and it _is_ your fault. Do you understand me?"

Rigsby was taken aback by Cho's rather long speech, but nodded. He did understand. He wanted to believe what Cho was saying, but it was hard to work and focus when he had the D.A. (and the charges he wanted to bring down on Rigsby) breathing down his neck.

"Focus, Rigsby."

"I will, man." he said and hopped into the back seat of the SUV. Cho hoped he meant it. While he had a second, he decided it would be a good time to call his niece Cora to check in. It was on the third ring when Lisbon came out and told him it was time to go. Cursing under his breath, he hung up, not waiting for her to answer. He'd call her back later. He was sure she was fine.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I phoned Van Pelt and told her the situation." Lisbon said out of the blue as she drove toward Norton Park.

"And?" Rigsby asked. It was the first time he'd seemed interested in what the other team members were talking about.

"And she was sad that Barbara was dead and upset that she had to deliver the news to the Miller family since she was already on her way there."

"She's a good girl." Jane said from his shotgun post. His eyes were open and he was scanning the road to the park. For what, he didn't know, but he did know that he had to do something to keep busy.

"She's a woman not a girl, Jane. And yes, Van Pelt is a good one. She's going to go back to HQ after she talks to the Miller family to see what trick Red John pulls next."

_Whatever it is, it won't be pretty. _Jane thought to himself. And unfortunately he was right.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_[A/N: I cut this chapter in two because I promised a few people I'd have it updated tonight and I thought this was a good stopping place. It would have been a really long one other wise. I'm sure Melody would hope they'd hurry, but she's just going to have to wait. Thanks for your patience with this story :) I hope it still interests you. All mistakes are mine]_

[Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. I guess I kinda do Melody. We have 2 dead girls and one living girl so the odds aren't in her favor, so she might not want me to 'own' her. I guess Cho's niece, Cora, is mine too......... Other than that. Nope.]


	8. Melody Taylor Part 2

_A/N: So, have you ever had a story get away from you? You don't know how it happened, but you wrote it and so it must be what was supposed to happen?? Well, that is the sad story behind For Every Evil. A few apologies.... 1) I am so sorry it's taken over a month to update. Work started back, and I didn't have time. 2) This isn't my favorite chapter I've ever written.... (does that annoy you as much as it does me when I read that in A/N LOL), but it's the truth. I hope it makes sense. If not, leave a review and tell me about it. 3) This story does have a clear outcome.... I just have to get to it LOL. 4) After all of that, I hope you STILL read it and STILL review because encouragement is good._

_Disclaimer: The only thing I 'might' own is Melody Taylor... and even she won't like me for long.... _

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Chapter 8: Melody Taylor Part 2**

Norton Park, which was like a mini Universal Studios, wasn't open for the day until eleven. It was 9:26 a.m. when the black SUV with Cho, Rigsby, Jane, and driven by Lisbon pulled up at the gates. The owner, Sam Newton, had been phoned on the way over and informed of the situation. As anyone would be, Sam was distraught that some harmless girl was being held hostage in his park, but obeyed Cho's orders to not enter the _Scream_ house and try to rescue her.

Sam, a man on the short side of life with ruffled reddish hair and canine like features, was waiting for the agents when they arrived and took them through the employee's entrance and around to the _Scream_ house which was to the back of the park. Once he did his duty, Lisbon excused him to leave and to notify any other law enforcement officers of what was going on when they arrived.

Lisbon's team were all wearing their bullet proof vests, even Jane who had been ordered to by Lisbon earlier in the day.

The _Scream House_ was an exact replica of Stu's house from the movie S_cream_. It was a large two story, white farm house with a small front porch and a garage to the side. Inside, park guests were treated to not only horror house staples such as darkened corridors and people jumping out at you, but it was unique as you got to act out parts of the movie within the groups of six that got to enter at the time.

As it was in the early morning, it was just a fake house on a fake lot. Nothing special about it except it now housed an innocent woman who had been targeted by a serial killer. Unfortunately, just another day for the CBI.

As instructed, the owner had made sure all power to the structure was cut off just in case Red John had rigged some sort of surprise for the team.

Lisbon and Cho went toward the back of the house. Rigsby and Jane entered through the front. Rigsby wasn't exactly pleased with the plan since Jane was unarmed, but figured what would it mattered if he died anyway? At least it would be in the line of duty and maybe his past sins would be lifted if he died a hero.

He and Rigsby had climbed the stairs to the second floor and turned right into one of the bedrooms. Jane held the flashlight since there were no windows in the fun house, an effect to scare the park guests senseless. Jane had a gut feeling. He didn't know why, but somehow he knew where Melody was. Quietly, he tapped Rigsby on the shoulder and pointed to the only closed door on the second floor. Rigsby nodded and positioned himself to knock the door down, praying that it wasn't harnessed up into some kind of booby trap that would kill Melody Taylor instantly. That's all his conscious needed, he thought grimly.

It was Jane who saw the girl first.

Signaling three, Rigsby kicked the door down and entered, yelling for anyone inside to freeze. Jane held the flashlight in front of him and swept the room. While Rigsby was searching for a suspect, Jane's green eyes settled to another pair staring back at him from the bed. It wasn't until she blinked that Jane let out the breath that he didn't even know he had been holding. "Rigsby. Bed." he pointed and ran over to the girl. Rigsby did another sweep before he followed, pulling out his cell and calling Lisbon and Cho who were somewhere else in the house.

"Melody?" Jane asked quietly as he knelled down next to the bed.

The woman nodded frantically, her eyes wide.

Melody was laying on a four poster bed, the one in the movie where Sidney and Billy and their one and only sexual encounter. Her hands and feet were bound to each of the four posts, and she laid there naked. Her dark brown hair seemed matted to her head by drying blood and on her abdomen was a smiling face carved in the young woman's skin.

"Jane." Rigsby called, motioning with his head toward something on the ceiling and holstering his gun. It was a bomb, and it was on a timer. Jane didn't know much about bombs except that they went boom, and this bomb was counting down to zero. It was on 9:24 when Jane looked.

Moments later, Lisbon and Cho ran in and quickly took stalk of the scene. "Get her out of here." Lisbon ordered, retrieving her cell and phoning Minilli. Cho and Jane untied the woman as Rigsby studied the bomb on the ceiling. Jane took off his bulletproof vest, removed his jacket, and placed it over Melody to make her feel more modest. Of course, she was in so much shock, that he had no idea if he was doing any good, but it made him feel like he was doing something productive.

"I can dismantle it." Rigsby said, standing on a chair mere inches from the explosive.

"No." Lisbon ordered. "No, Minilli said we get out. The bomb squad will be here in 10 minutes."

Rigsby shook his head. "Not enough time, boss. There is enough C-4 on this thing to explode the entire park." He studied the bomb some more. Absentmindedly, he pulled out a piece of gum from his pocket and began chewing. He needed to concentrate and sometimes that helped. For months, he had felt guilty about letting Jason Copala die (even though at the time he thought he deserved it). To him, the name of the bomb was 'Redemption' and he'd be damned if he didn't take it.

"Rigsby, lets go." Lisbon said sternly, putting her cell in the pocket and pointing for Cho and Jane to get the girl out.

But he didn't look at her.

"I'll take care of it." He promised as the timer ticked down to two minutes.

"Rigsby, this is an order. Get. Out. Now."

"No can do, Boss. I'm sorry."

Hearing the conviction in his voice, Lisbon knew there was no talking him into leaving. "When you get out of this, you'll have a big report to write up, Rigsby."

"Yes, Ma'am." He smiled as Lisbon reluctantly left the room. He knew something Lisbon didn't. Something he wouldn't let her know. There were two deathtraps on the ceiling. One was the bomb that he was going to dismantle. The other was a gun, concealed from her view above the doorway. Red John was cleaver. If anyone tried to disarm the bomb, it would trigger the gun. Red John's motives and style was changing like the wind. This must be his final hurrah, Rigsby decided. He was moving up in the world. Rigsby had to laugh at himself, as he pulled out his knife to begin disarming the device. Red John sure was ending his career with a bang....

But he would to.

Silently saying a prayer and hoping it wasn't too late for God to hear, he began work on the bomb. He only had one minute to save the people he loved.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lisbon made it to the porch before her conscious got the better of her and she turned to run back into the house. She had no idea what she had been thinking leaving Wayne in there like that. She knew he had had a drinking problem. She knew about Jason and his guilt. But he was still her friend... part of her team that she was supposed to protect.

Running back up the steps, she reached the door before she was grabbed from behind. "Let him do it, Lisbon." she heard Jane whisper in her ear. "Come on." He said louder, as close to panic as she had ever heard from him.

Jane was pulling Lisbon off of the porch steps when they heard the gunshot coming from the upstairs.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dang it! People answer your phones!" Grace slammed down her office phone and stood to pace the bullpen. She had been trying to reach the team for the past ten minutes and nothing. She didn't know why they weren't answering and it was making her nervous.

When her cell phone started singing the tone alerting her to a newly received text, she ran back to her desk to read it.

_Grace, Bad News. Meet me at my house. I'll explain everything. Jane_

Grabbing her purse, Grace left without hesitation.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jane couldn't hold Lisbon long after the shot rang out. She was up the old fashioned white porch and into the house before he could run after her. When he finally reached her, she was back in the bedroom they had just been in earlier, kneeling down over Rigsby's body. He was bleeding from the head and unresponsive.

"Ambulances are already on their way." Lisbon told him and her tone made Jane's blood run ice cold. She had already ripped some bedsheets into strips and applying pressure to Rigsby's head. "Jane, call Grace." She said almost as an afterthough. "She needs to know."

Jane felt his fingers tremble as he reached into his pocket for his cell... and found it empty.


	9. Cora Cho

_A/N: I know, I can't believe it either. Two updates in 48 hours. Lucky devils LOL. Anyway, I don't own anything. All mistakes are mine. And thank you all so much for the reviews for last chapter. I wasn't expecting that many especially since this story hadn't been updated in a month. You sure know how to make a girl smile :). _

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Chapter 9: Cora Cho**

Virgil Minelli slammed down his office phone and leaned back angrily in his chair. It had been Agent Lisbon on the phone giving him an update on Rigsby's condition, and the news wasn't good. The bullet had only grazed his head, Thank God, but the fall from the chair had broken his left arm and he was still unconscious. It could have been worse, that was for sure. But it could have also had been so much better.

Minelli sat up and slammed his fist into his sturdy desk. Rigsby should have gotten out of there like he had instructed. He should have left then he wouldn't be on his way to the hospital. Virgil wasn't one to blame himself for any of his teams' problems. They were grown men and women who made their own decisions, but still, he had anger (both at Rigsby and Lisbon... and if he was truthful himself), worry, and a sick feeling in his stomach knowing that it was only 10 am. Red John wasn't near finished for the day.

"Am I interrupting something important?" a deep voice called from Minelli's office door. Minelli noticed at once that the voice wasn't the least bit sympathetic or caring. What did the owner care if Minelli was having a crappy day? Answer. He didn't.

"Yes, actually." he said, sitting back in his chair and lacing his fingers in front of him. "We are all extremely busy today."

"I heard. Red John's at it again, I see." The man, District Attorney Frank Copola, sat down in a chair across from Minelli without waiting to be invited. "I should have been informed." He said gruffly.

Minelli, like everyone else, knew the D.A.'s link to Red John. Red John had killed his son, Jason (granted his son had been pretending to be Red John, but still... a father's grief knows no bounds), and the D.A. had decided to take his anger, sorrow, and revenge out on Wayne Rigsby and Patrick Jane (both who he thought had let his son die). "You would have been informed when I had something to inform you of."

The D.A. smirked. It wasn't a hidden fact that Minelli didn't like him. It also wasn't a hidden fact that Frank didn't care. He idly twisted his gold wedding band on his finger and looked Minelli in the eye, changing the subject. "I have enough evidence to charge Wayne Rigsby as an accessory to the murder of my son."

"Is that a fact?" Minelli's poker-face took over. Inside, however, his stomach lurched.

Frank nodded. "Who is to say that Mr. Rigsby isn't working for Red John now? Leading your team on a wild goose chase?"

Minelli leaned up over his desk, a move that showed he was not afraid of the measly, power driven D.A. "If you have something to charge Agent Rigsby with, you go and do it yourself. Don't come into my office and gloat about it. And second, how do I know that my man isn't working for Red John? Because right at this minute, he is unconscious, in an ambulance, and being rushed to the hospital with injuries sustained _by_ Red John. That's how I know. Now, is there anything else?"

Frank could see Minelli's ire was raised, and that pleased him. The large man ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair and stood. Standing, he was over 6 feet tall and was a very imposing presence. "Nothing that can't wait. Just know, once Mr. Rigsby is awake, he will be charged. And I will assure you, Mr. Jane's arrest will soon follow."

"You are making a mistake." Minelli warned.

"I don't make mistakes." The D.A. replied coolly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Teresa Lisbon paced outside the Scream house at Norton Park. She hated waiting. Waiting wasn't her best quality and she knew it. Rigsby had been loaded onto the ambulance five minutes prior and now it was down to three: she, Jane, and Cho. She hadn't been able to get a hold of Grace, but wouldn't let that worry her since Minelli had told her that the junior agent had been in the bullpen not ten minutes before. She knew that the redhead would want to know about Wayne, but she couldn't tie up her phone calling and telling her. Minelli said he would take care of it, and she had to leave it at that. The team needed their phones (save Jane who annoyingly couldn't find his) free in case Red John called with the clue to the next victim.

For his part, Jane sat on the front steps to the house, watching. The local PD was there (as they had been at all the crime scenes that day) logging evidence and finding all sorts of useless things to bag and tag. He didn't see the point. They _knew_ who Red John was (his former friend Simon James). They knew what he looked like, so why did the evidence matter.

He thought maybe he should do something to help Lisbon. Maybe say something comforting like it wasn't her fault. But he knew her and he knew that she wasn't blaming herself. She was blaming Rigsby and Red John, and maybe even him for introducing the team to Red John in the first place.

And then there was his phone. He knew he hadn't dropped it. He always carried it in his vest pocket, but since Lisbon had made him wear that stupid bulletproof vest, he had placed it in his back pants pocket instead. Easy pickings if someone wanted to pick it.... and yes, even a cleaver mentalist like him could have his pocket picked if he wasn't paying attention. Red John had messed with his senses for the past few months (nay the past few years) and he still didn't feel 100%. It was showing, and he was slipping.. something he couldn't afford to do.

"Where is he?" Lisbon grumbled, looking at her watching as she paced. "It's after 10. If Red John doesn't give us a clue quick, we might lose this one."

"He's plotting something, alright." Jane agreed, looking down at his own watch. It was 10:10. It wasn't like Red John to be ten minutes late with his riddles.

"Maybe we are missing something. A clue. Maybe it's in the bedroom where we found the girl. Where is the owner, Sam uh---?"

"Newton. I haven't seen him."

"Talking to the police maybe?"

"Maybe." But not likely, Jane thought, tucking an intriguing hunch away to use later if the evidence started pointing that way. "Or maybe Red John announced his victim on TV like he did the first girl." Jane pointed to a spot about fifty yards away where the local news vans were parked and reporting live.

"Good call. I'll go check." Lisbon began walking over to the vans, but was stopped before she got to them by Cho running out of the house and down the porch yelling for her. It wasn't like Cho to be so animated, yet there he was, eyes as big as saucers, breath heavy. "It's Cora." he said, showing his cell to Lisbon. "He's got my niece, Cora."

Lisbon took the phone and immediately saw the picture of Cora sitting, her arms and legs bound in a chair. Underneath was written, "_Tell Mr. Jane that his time is near. It's time I kill someone you hold dear. Where is she? Look under your feet. She's going to die, Agent Cho. Ask Mr. Jane if revenge is still sweet."_

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

The first thing Grace noticed when she arrived at Jane's house was that hers was the only car there. Immediately, she felt as if something was wrong. But Jane had text her, right? He wanted her to come to his house, right? So, why did she feel so uneasy? And where the hell was his car? Where was the team and why couldn't she get in touch with them?

Upon reaching his front door, she knocked, but unholstered her weapon. She had had a crummy day and this tension and uncertainty sure wasn't helping. She had been sent away to do desk duty and to tell the family of Barbara Miller that she had died at the hands of a serial killer. It had been torture for her to have to relay that message given the fact that only a month before she was almost a murder victim of the same serial killer, but she was an agent now and agents had to do bad things.

"Jane!" she called from the door. Turning the knob, she saw that that it was unlocked and she ventured in. "Jane." she said more quietly. This couldn't be a trap, could it? Jane's name had been on the text. It had been his cell. No, she was just being paranoid. Almost being killed (twice) by a madman did that to a person. If she was ever going to get better, she had to get over it.

She walked toward the staircase then jumped when she heard the door behind her slam. Turning toward the noise, she held her gun at the ready.

"I'm sorry ma'am." It was a man. A man she didn't recognize. He was on the short side of life with reddish disheveled hair and canine like features. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Who are you?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady, but not winning that battle very well.

"My name is Sam. I'm Mr. Jane's new gardener." the man replied, showing her the shovel in his hand.

"Jane doesn't have a gardener." Grace replied, tensing up.

"Oh-- well then--" Sam smiled deceivingly. "I guess that means I'm just here for you."

Before she could react, the red-haired man began running toward her, shovel pulled back like a bat ready to swing. Grace's breath caught, her eyes automatically shut, and she pulled the trigger.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------


	10. Grace Van Pelt

_A/N: So, there are a LOT of things going on in this story. Some refreshers...Misty was Sam's wife in Death, Lies and Videotape. She was the one working with Red John and who he ultimately killed in the early part of this story. D.A. Frank Copola is on the way to the hospital to charge Rigsby with accessory to the murder of his son, Jason (Sam's partner). Jane's cellphone has been stolen by 'Sam Newton' who has attacked Grace at Jane's house. Cora Cho, Kimball's niece, has been taken by Red John and they don't know where she is. On top of that, everyone is still reeling from the events in 'Death, Lies, and Videotape', and having to deal with all of these Red John riddles every hour. So, there is a lot to remember. If you see something that you remember that I have totally screwed up, please let me know and I'll fix it. Thanks to kathiann (my FF BFF) for reading this and liking it :). I don't own these characters. I do own the mistakes...... yahoo!_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Chapter 10: Grace Van Pelt**

"Let me see that." Jane said, coming up behind Cho and taking his phone. Silently, he read Red John's text. "_Tell Mr. Jane that his time is near. It's time I kill someone you hold dear. Where is she? Look under your feet. She's going to die, Agent Cho. Ask Mr. Jane if revenge is still sweet."_

The picture above the text showed the young woman was bound to a chair. A chair in a dark room with no apparent clues as to her whereabouts. "Look under your feet." Jane mumbled, mostly to himself as he looked around trying to put together the pieces of Red John's puzzle. He wasn't giving him much to go on, but then again, when had he ever? "Under your feet..." he said again, walking away from Lisbon and Cho.

"We have to find her." Cho told Lisbon,trying with everything he had to hold himself together. This was a first for him. The first time Red John had affect _his_ family. Sure, he had felt grief and sorrow, anger even, when the madman had hurt Grace and Lisbon and he always felt horrible about the deaths of Jane's family, but it was always someone _else_. This was _his_. Cora was his only niece, and as such she had her uncle tied around her little finger. His sister, Dawn, had been murdered by a rival member of Cho's former gang when Cora had been only three. That one act had caused Cho to leave the gang and pursue law enforcement. Now, he feared that that decision was going to cost him his closest relative.

"We will, Cho. We will." Lisbon assured, not wanting to sound to motherly. Like any good leader, she knew how to relate to everyone she was in charge of. Rigsby, a smile or a stern voice. Van Pelt worked best for praise. And Cho did best with facts and logic. She knew he wouldn't respond well if she tried to coddle him, and truthfully she was glad about that because she knew as well as he that his niece didn't have much time. Her watch read 10:16.

She was about to ask Jane if he had any hunches about the woman's whereabouts when she was cut off by one of the local PD coming up. "Agent Lisbon. We found a body in the office a few yards that way." he said pointing southeast.

"A body? Female?" Her first hunch was that Red John had struck early.

"No ma'am. Male. Driver's License in his pocket said he name was Sam Newton. He was the owner of this park." The officer said all of this while handing Lisbon the dead man's license. She remembered Sam Newton well. He had greeted them at the gate when they had first entered Norton Park. He was short with canine like features and scruffy reddish hair, but the man in the picture, the _real_ Sam Newton had jet black hair and bright blue eyes. "Oh hell." She said under her breath.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

It all happened so fast. She had been inside Jane's house for just a few seconds when she had heard the door shut and a strange man standing there. He said his name was Sam and he was the gardener, but she had (for all intensive purposes) lived there for the past month so she knew Jane had no gardener and that the man was lying. Of course, when he ran after her with a shovel, she was pretty darn sure her suspicions were right. Already having her gun at the ready, she had closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

But it hadn't been _her_ bullet that had stopped her would-be assailant.

After hearing the shot, her eyes opened and she saw the man fall to the floor a few feet from her. Quickly glancing down, she saw that he had a bullet hole in his back, and looking up toward the door she saw the man who had given it to him. Her breath hitched at first and then involuntarily sped up. Her heart pounded harder and harder into her chest. If she had been looking at the Devil himself, she wasn't sure she would have been as scared.

"It's so hard to find good help these days." he said, looking down at the dead man on the floor. "Sam Manning. Searched for weeks finding a suitable bomb maker, and that's not easy let me tell ya. Misty found him actually. Then they got all hot and heavy and, well, I had to kill her. You know how you women are." He sighed heavily as if reliving a jovial memory. Finally, he looked up at the woman he had terrorized mere weeks before. "Miss me, Grace?"

"Can't say I did." She answered, heart beating faster. She steadied her gun with both hands and mentally made herself stand her ground and not run.

"Too bad. I missed you. You were so...._sweet..._" the man, Red John, grinned broadly in a sinister way that made Grace's stomach churn. ".. we never did get to finish what we started." He licked his lips and fixated his eyes onto her breasts causing a smirk to form. He didn't want sex. Never did from his kills, but he sure loved to play with them. Get inside their heads and taunt them with their worst fears. He knew as well as he was standing there that rape was up there on Grace's top ten list of fears. Jane wasn't the only one who could read people.

"Sorry. I'm not one for daytime sex." She spat back mentally kicking herself for letting his taunting get to her, "Now daytime killing, I'm all for." Her fear had turned to anger and anger was an emotion she could deal with at the time. How _dare_ this man torment her again?! How_ dare _he trick her into coming to Jane's house?! She wasn't going to put up with it. Not any more. None of the pain. None of the anguish he had caused her in the past month was she ever going to feel again. She tightened her finger on the trigger, and he smiled. "My dear agent Van Pelt," he laughed, "Do you think I'm that easy to kill? If so, I imagine Mr. Jane would have done it years ago."

"I'm not Jane." Grace said matter of fact and pulled the trigger.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So if this is the real Sam Newton...." Cho began, but he already knew how his sentence would end.

"... Yeah, who the hell met us at the gate and let us in?" Lisbon asked, pulling out her phone to call Minelli who had demanded to be in the loop.

"I have a theory." Jane began, walking back to them, Cho's cellphone in hand. "The man that met us at the gate was someone working for Red John. It was his job to get Melody Taylor into the house and the bomb and gun set. Like you said, a bomb isn't Red John's normal M.O.."

"Must be the fake Sam Newton's M.O. then." Her first instinct was to tell Van Pelt or Rigsby to go and check on that, but both were gone. Rigsby was in the hospital with a broken left arm and a bullet graze to his head from trying to dismantle the bomb in the Scream house. And Van Pelt, she hadn't heard from Van Pelt in longer than she liked. Her team was dwindling and she wasn't liking it in the least.

Being out of options, she turned to the young officer to her side. "You. Go find a sketch artist and have them come to me, asap. We have a suspect that needs to be drawn and then put through the system. This person is working for Red John and we need to catch him. Understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am." the officer said and ran off to do as she asked.

"He needed whoever the other guy was here to set this up so he could go after Cora." Cho said, knowing it would be Jane's next statement.

"Yes," Jane answered. "There was no way he could have pulled all of this off by himself. Too many girls and too many gadgets. He had to have help. But the help wasn't as careful as he is."

Cho took his phone back from Jane and immediately couldn't take his eyes off of his scared and frightened niece. "Where is she, Jane?" he asked, hopeful that the one person who usually knew it all, actually knew it all.

For Jane's part, he wanted to be right. But there were a lot of things about this that didn't add up, not that he wanted Cho and Lisbon to know that it hadn't clicked for him completely yet. Why did Red John side track them with a trip to the park? What was he planning as his big finish? And where the hell was Grace?

Things started flashing through his mind:

_Tell Mr. Jane... Look under your feet... Near.... Tell Jane... Grace.... Not back yet.....His phone missing.... Cora, in a dark place... under your feet... revenge.... is revenge sweet?......Tied to a chair........Revenge... Cora... Grace...... Home._

Finally, it hit him... and when it did, it hit him hard. "I know where they are." his words came out quickly, and his eyes were wide with something the others with him couldn't place.

"What do you mean 'they'? He just has Cora, right?" Lisbon asked, hanging up with Minelli who thanked her for keeping him updated and told her that he hadn't seen Grace in about 45 minutes.

"I know where they are." Jane repeated again this time slower and with more conviction.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The bullet that Grace fired hit Red John square in the chest, causing him to bounce back a little, but then he looked up at her, that smirky grin still in place. "Ohhhhh... tickles."

"Next one won't." she aimed up toward his head where nothing could stop it, not even that bullet proof vest it was clear he had been concealing. Two shots she had fired in the past five minutes hadn't hit their intended mark. Three would _not_ be like the others.

"Now now, Grace, you'll want to think about that. You kill me, your friend down in the basement won't like it very much."

It took everything Grace had to not pull the trigger and just end it right then. Who was to say that he wasn't just playing with her? It was what he did. Toyed and played. Manipulated and killed. That's all the man who had once been Jane's best friend had been reduced too. She wondered if there was even a piece of Simon James left in the demon Red John. "There's no one in the basement." she said bluntly, aiming again.

"No? Well, won't she be surprised by that? Go on and shoot me then, just know that you are killing her too. Poor Agent Cho. How will he feel when he finds out you are directly responsible for his niece's death?" he shook his head and made a _tsk tsk tsk_ sound with his tongue. This had turned out even more enjoyable than he had imagined it would.

As much as she wanted to kill him, as much as she hated the man, she couldn't do it with that thought looming over her head, and she knew that was his intention. Just to play her. It was all a game to him. A sick, sick game. She cursed him loudly and then angrily lowered her weapon to her side. "Throw it on the floor." He demanded. It took everything she had, but she complied throwing her one chance at defense toward the living room floor. "Good." The word was drawn out and seething with sarcasm. "Now, if you would be so kind, Grace." He pointed his gun briefly toward the steps leading up to the bedrooms and then back to her.

She realized that if she walked up the steps, she probably wouldn't make it back down. But what else could she do? She had to think.. had to think..... She jumped when she heard him yelling. "NOW! Agent Van Pelt. Time.. it's a wasting." She could tell that he was becoming agitated and an agitated psycho was an even worse prospect than a happy one.

Despite what her legs and her mind shouted at her, Grace found it in her to turn and walk up the stairs, not because she was terrified of what Red John was going to do to her. She had already gone numb thinking about that, but because she would be damned if she was going to be responsible for Cora's death. She knew that the longer Red John tortured her, the longer he couldn't hurt Cora and maybe, just maybe the team would come to their rescue. As she made her assent, automatically her hand reached to her stomach, and she began to shake as her resolve started to waiver at the memory of all of the pain Red John had caused her. Even rubbing over her shirt, she could still feel the raised scar from the bullet Red John had left her in Jane's living room a few weeks before. When she reached the plateau of the stairs, she ran her fingers over each of her wrists where he had slashed them on their first encounter when he drugged and nearly killed her. It was then that she almost turned and charged him. She wanted to. Wanted to take him out and let it be over. Panic began to rise and she wasn't sure she could go through with this, and she was so angry with herself for not shooting him in the head when she had the chance... before she ever knew that Cho's niece's life was in her hands.

As if he read her thoughts she heard, "Uh-uh-uh, Grace. Don't get any ideas. Remember, Cora is counting on you. Don't let her down."

Grace had never hated a single person in her life, save this man who was worse than anything she could have ever imagined. The only thing she knew to do was to keep going and assess her options continually. She almost had herself convinced that she was doing the right thing when she reached the bedroom at the end of the hall, opened it and gasped seeing the unexpected and fading Red John smiling face staring back at her. She let out a startled yelp as she was pushed inside by the same man who had drawn the face six years before. "I know I know." he said, motioning to the smile on the wall above her. "It's faded. Lets see if we can freshen it up a bit." He smiled devilishly at her before locking the door behind him.


	11. Patrick Jane

_A/N: This update is dedicated to Kathiann as tomorrow is her birthday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! She's my FF BFF and wanted an update for her birthday (who am I to deny?). There is one part that 'might' be a little squeamish, but it really just depends on what you can handle. Just wanted to throw that warning out there. Also, this isn't my best chapter.... its all leading up to the big finish..... _

_Also, in my story, Jane lives in Sacramento. I don't know if he does or Malibu. And to be honest, I don't know a heck of a lot about California. So please over look that. Pretty please............_

_Disclaimer: It is what it is. And no, the character's aren't mine._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Chapter 11: Patrick Jane**

It was a beautiful morning. The temperature was a nice sixty-five degrees, and the sun was nearing its mid-day glory. Sacramento was beaming as usual by that time of day. Tourists soaked in all of the exquisite California weather, while the locals paid no never mind, some glad, however, that they didn't live somewhere it rained constantly, say the South.

An SUV sped down the road, lights and sirens blaring. The occupants paid no attention to the sun nor the beauty coming from it. It could have been raining frogs for all they cared, and it might have been as much as they were paying attention. The sunny day was a direct contrast to the overly dark mood encompassing the car.

The driver, Teresa Lisbon, was alternating hands, one on the wheel, one on the phone with Minelli. Only ten minutes before, Cho had gotten the text from Red John saying that he had his niece, and it wasn't long after that that Jane put all the pieces together and deciphered that not only had Red John kidnapped Cora Cho, but also Grace, and was holding them both at Jane's house.

How did he know that? The clues weren't very specific of course. Obviously, Cora was in a basement of some sorts from the wording of the text Cho had received, but the rest was just his mind working over time. As they sped toward his house, he hoped he was wrong. He hoped that Grace was safe somewhere, maybe that she had gone and gotten some coffee and that's why Minelli hadn't seen her. Maybe she had dropped her phone somewhere, but the detail oriented side of him knew that was wishful thinking, something he couldn't afford to do. His cell was gone. Too much of a coincidence. And Red John was making his last stand. Where else than Jane's house, where his nightmare had began?

"Police will be waiting on us from your drive." Lisbon announced as she closed her phone and stepped harder on the gas, weaving in and out of Sacramento traffic. They were a few miles still from Jane's driveway which was long and winding. It started at the bottom of a hill on Popular Avenue. An iron gate was there at the bottom of his drive to block the drive from the main road. Jane hadn't closed it in over six years. The driveway wound up and up around a small bend and finally to the main house. Jane understood without Lisbon telling him that the police would wait at the bottom and get their instructions from her as to their next move. He wondered himself what those instructions would be. Go in at all costs, or wait down at the road for additional instructions?

For his part, Cho was trying every technique he had to keep it together. He was known for keeping his cool and he'd be damned if he lost it when one of the most important people in the world to him was in danger, and in danger because of him, because of the life and job he chose.

The car was unusually silent. Lisbon wasn't giving orders. Cho was lost in his own head, formulating a plan for when he finally got his hands on Red John. Would he go vigilante like Jane? And Jane cracked no jokes, made no uncalled for comments. He was worried about both Grace and Cora, but there was a part (and he wouldn't lie and say a small part) that couldn't wait to have Red John face to face... and he began imagining how he'd finally kill Red John for good. His main way had always been to lure Red John to his house, lead him up the stairs, get out the gun he had stashed in his upstairs bathroom (under the floorboard beneath the window, exactly where he'd showed Grace just last week), and shoot him straight between his eyes, that is after he tortured him for a little while.

The silence was broken by the sound of a cell phone ringing. Deciding it was his, Cho retrieved it from his front shirt pocket and stared at the number. "Jane." he said to the man in the backseat. "You're calling me."

"It's him." Jane sat up straighter. "Answer it."

Cho had already opened his phone and said, "Hello." before Jane had finished telling him too.

_"Hello, Agent Cho. How are you this fine day?" _The man on the other end, the voice Cho had never heard, but knew without a doubt that it was Red John, said almost joyfully.

"I've been better." Cho gritted his teeth. First rule of talking to psycho's, don't let them see you sweat. And don't give them any kind of advantage. Unfortunately, he already had two advantages, Cora and Grace.

_"I can imagine. Nothing personal, Agent Cho. I just needed your beautiful, soft..... sweet niece for a bit of a game I've got with Mr. Jane. You'll understand."_

"Can't say I do as I'm not a psychotic killer." Cho heard a rustling and a tiny groan on the other end of the phone. He knew instantly that it was Cora and his skin turned ice cold. "Let me talk to her." his voice was low and bordering in menacing. He was losing it imagining what Red John had done to his niece, his niece who was one of his few remaining relatives.

_"No can do, Agent Cho. She seems to be all tied up at the moment."_

"You're with her." He was stalling. If Red John was talking to him, then maybe he would leave Cora alone. It was wishful thinking.

_"Yes, at Jane's house, but you already knew that, didn't you? I bet you are coming, guns a blaring. Calvary's probably already at the gate. Am I right?"_

"Doesn't matter where the Calvary is. I'll kill you myself, you miserable--" Cho was cut off by Jane's hand on his shoulder, both calming and warning him to not lose it with Red John. Not yet anyway.

He heard a chuckle on the other end of the phone. _"Kill me, eh? Why does everyone want to kill me? Jane does. Grace did."_

The past-tense form of 'did' didn't slip by Cho. "Did? Does that mean Grace is dead?" Lisbon's eyes cut off of the road hearing Cho's last statement, and she instantly had to bring them back as to not hit on coming traffic.

_"It means what it means, Agent Cho. You tell Jane I have a message for him. He's with you I assume."_

"Yes."

_"You tell him that we never got to finish our little game before with the pretty brunette and the lovely Grace. Rest her soul. He never did pick who he wanted to live. You tell him that if I see any cops including you and your boss, Cora will die. If does not come into his house alone, she will die. If Mr. Jane brings a gun with him, I can assure you, you'll never ever see your niece again. Now, tell him."_

Cho took the phone to his ear and relayed the message to Jane who was now leaning over the front seat. Cho didn't wait for Jane's reply, as he put the phone to his ear and said, "It's done."

_"And?"_ Red John's tone was curious and jolly.

"And--" Cho dragged it out. He sure didn't want to tell him what Jane had just said. "And, Jane said that was fine with him and if you hurt one hair on either woman, he'd see you in Hell."

On the other other end of the line, Cho heard an amused chuckle, followed by footsteps. "Oh Agent Cho. Now why did you go and have to say that?" Cho then her heard some mumbling, a female gasp, and a loud snap. The snap was enough to make his stomach clinch as he knew the only thing that would cause that type of noise. Cho heard his niece screaming a muffled scream letting him know that her mouth had been covered. "One finger down, nine more to go, Agent Cho. Don't growl. I didn't touch a hair on her head as per Jane's request. I broke a finger on her hand. Just-- like this one." Again a sickening snap, a muffled scream, this time louder and accompanied by audible sobs. "Tell Jane he might want to watch his mouth. I'm sure Cora would sure appreciate it. Wouldn't you, baby?"

"You miserble Ass--" Cho began, but was cut off.

_"I'd weigh my words very carefully, Agent __Cho" _Red John was no longer in the playful mood._ "You never know what destruction can be caused by the power of words." There was a pause and he heard a ripping sound like masking tape being pulled off of lips. "Now, Cora, be a good girl and tell you uncle bye."_

_"Uncle Cho!" He heared her yell loudly into the receiver. "Help me! Please. He's got a--" _

"Cora! Cora! What is it?! What does he have?" But it was already silent. "Damn it!" Cho slammed closed his phone and held it in his hand, gripping it tightly. His eyes were dilated cylinders and his pulse a race car on the short track. When he lost it, everyone saw it coming. Cho began banging his cell on the dashboard in front of him, yelling expletive after expletive. "Stop it!" Lisbon ordered, taking her right hand and placing it on Cho's shoulder for support. "Look, you've got to keep it together. Breaking down doesn't do Cora or Grace any good."

"He broke her damn fingers." Cho said, angry tears threatening to flow down his cheeks.

"He'll do worse if we don't get to her in time and lose our heads." Jane warned from the backseat. "You have to calm down, Cho."

"And Grace is dead." Cho told him. His voice quivering.

"Did he say that?" Jane demanded. "Did he say those exact words?"

"No-- but.."

"No, nothing. He's playing us, Cho. He's playing us all. And he's doing a good job of it, but Grace isn't dead. I assure you. She's not." And he wondered how many times he had to say it to believe it himself.

There were so many things Cho wanted to say. He wanted to tell Jane to go to Hell. That this was all his fault anyway. He wanted to yell at Lisbon to stop trying to comfort him and drive faster. He wanted to wake up from his nightmare that he knew he was in. But he did none of that. Instead he threw what was left of his phone down onto the floorboard and leaned back in his seat. He closed his eyes and began meditating on all of the ways he was going to punish Red John.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rigsby could see the light coming from his hospital room window. Another glorious day in Sacramento. Groaning, he pushed the call button to get a nurse in there. He wanted the blinds closed. He wasn't in the mood for that much sunlight when the world should be as dark as he felt.

The depression he'd been in for a month hadn't subsided like he told his colleagues it had, not that he thought they believed him, but oh well. The drinking was making things worse, not better, and no he had been shot (grazed on the temple) and had a broken left arm from trying to do the right thing for once. Life sucked.

He heard the door open and turned expecting a nurse. Instead he was met with an imposing presence. A man well over 6 feet, salt and pepper hair, and a smirk that would scare the devil. "District Attorney Copola." Rigsby croaked, knowing that _know_ life really sucked.

"Agent Rigsby." Copola greeted, pointing to the officer in blue that he'd brought with him. "This is Officer Logan."

"Business or pleasure." Rigsby's voice had a bit of annoyance in it. He was so tired of being scared of that man.

"Both. Business for you. Pleasure for me. I've looked forward to this for a very long time, Agent Rigsby."

"Then get it over with." his voice showing that he was bored with the entire situation. He'd let them arrest him and cuff him to the bed if it would make them feel better. What did he have to lose anyway?

"We'll get to it. But first--" Copola crossed the room and turned on the TV located on the wall in front of Rigby's bed. The regularly scheduled talk show had been interrupted by a special news break which was all about Red John and the CBI team hot on his tail-- despite the fact that one of their own had been shot--- and another had been kidnapped by the serial killer. "Grace?!" Rigsby shot up to sitting on his bed when he saw picture of her flashed on the screen. He felt a pain in his heart and other emotions that up until five seconds ago, he wasn't sure he could feel again. Hand over his mouth, he continued to watch the reporter...

_"News 4 has learned exclusively that CBI Agent Grace Van Pelt is the next victim in the man known as Red John's vicious and violent 'final act' as he calls it. CBI agents are on their way to save the woman who already has a connection to Red John. A little over a month ago, the psychopath drugged, stabbed, and shot her in a failed murder attempt. Looks like he's getting another shot today."_

"Grace!" Rigsby said again, terror filling his voice. He swung his legs over the bed and tried to stand. It was a vain effort, however, as Officer Logan (a shorter man with large biceps and an even bigger bad ass look in his eyes) stood in front of him and blocked his progress. "Agent Wayne Rigsby. You are under arrest for aiding and being negligent in the death of Officer Jason Copola. You have the right to remain silent--" Logan said, pushing Rigsby back on the bed, taking out his cuffs, and finishing the Meranda rights.

"You can't be serious. Now!?! You arrest me now when Grace needs me!" He hadn't known when this intense feeling of obligation had come over him, but there it was. The man who had wanted to die only minutes before now not only wanted to live, but wanted to leave the hospital and save his friend Grace.

"Ironic, ain't it?" Copola smiled down at him as Logan cuffed his right arm to the bed.

"You did this. You tipped the News off so I'd have to see it. For what? To torture me?!" Rigsby was fighting Logan with everything he had, but in the end, the officer won out and Rigsby was attached to the bed, unable to break free.

Copola nodded for Logan to move and sat down on the bed next to Rigsby. "Exactly. You allowed my son to die. You could have called 9-1-1 sooner. You could have tried to help, but you didn't."

"You're _son_," Rigsby spat. "Was a murderer. He got what he deserved." How many times had he told himself that? How many times had he actually believe it?

"And so do you." Copola said bluntly, walking toward the door. "Your friend needs you, Agent Rigsby, just like my son did. And you didn't help. History's repeating itself, eh Agent?" And with that, he left followed by Officer Logan who stood watch outside the door.

Rigsby was left helpless. One arm broken. The other cuffed to the bed-railing. The TV was left on, and he was forced to watch the effort to save Grace without the ability to help.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When the black SUV pulled up to the gate at Jane's house, it was met by five other local police cars as well as a blue car carrying Minelli. "Red John called Cho's cell. Somehow he'd gotten Jane's phone from whomever was posing as Sam Newton at Norton Park. He specifically said for Jane to go in alone or he'd kill Cora." Lisbon told her boss.

"And Van Pelt?" The senior agent asked.

"Implied she dead, but it's unclear if it's the case." Lisbon was trying her best to say focused and professional. Lord knew that between Cho's breakdown, Jane's crazy vendetta, and Rigsby's 'problems', someone had to keep a clear head. She had to admit to herself, though, that he wished to God that it wasn't her that always had to pick up the pieces and hold the keystone.

Minelli looked at Jane, eyebrow raised. He didn't like this at all. Not any of it. "Do you think he'll follow through?" He asked Jane.

"Yes. He seems to want to finish a game we started." Jane replied, looking up toward the winding road to his house.

"And you are willing to go alone?"

"Yes, I'm willing."

"You understand that--" Minelli was going to finish with-- _you might not make it out alive. _But Jane beat him to it. "Yes, I understand it all. Look, my actions six years ago got Grace and Cora into this just like it got my wife and child into it. I couldn't save them. I didn't even have a chance. But I do now." He glanced to Cho, who was standing arms crossed over his chest, like he was holding himself in. "I won't let you down." He promised.

Cho nodded in response, still thinking about the evil sounds of Cora's fingers being snapped like twigs and her screams. He was wishing to hell that he hadn't smashed his phone. Red John might have tried calling him back, and he hadn't known. What had Red John done to Cora then?

"You don't think Grace is dead?" Minelli asked, actually hopeful that maybe for once Jane's psychic abilities were real.

"No." Jane's voice held no uncertainty. He knew that if Red John had killed Grace, he would have bragged about it. Jane's affirmation made Minelli feel just a little better, but he still had a lot riding on this.

"You'll wear a wire. And you'll take some sort of weapon with you. I don't care what, but you are _not _going in unarmed. From what Lisbon has told me, Red John could be in there with another man. The unidentified man who stole your phone at Norton Park. You'll be careful, and we'll come in if I feel it's becoming too dangerous." Minelli told Jane, conceding that this was the only way.

"Understood." Jane said, walking with Minelli to get geared up. As per Red John's rules, he couldn't take a gun, so he had to use his imagination. While he was getting ready, he glanced down at his watch. 10:47 am. Time for redemption was definitely running out.


End file.
